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  • Elsewhere

    Boy it's been a while, huh? Sorry about the long hiatus over the summer but work, internet service changes in my house, and life at home kept me from posting, but luckily not from writing. I'm posting it all up today so bear with me.

    Smallville: ELSEWHERE
    By Peter Amico
    Note: I don’t own a bit of the rights to Smallville, so don’t flame me, or be an idiot about this. This story is written in fun and that’s it. Enjoy

    Prologue

    The ship was not of human origin. Perhaps six feet in length and oblong, it hurtled through the recesses of space without any obvious means of propulsion. A spherical bulge towards the back dominated most of the ship, with the front tapering off to a long point. Its hull was silver, unmarked, and seamless. It moved with a grace and speed that was impossible for modern human crafts. Even more impossible was how far it had come, and for what purpose.

    Inside the ship, a small child slept dreamlessly, though not soundly. Voices and faces floated on the edge of his mind, some more familiar and distinct than others. As he slept, he almost remembered what they meant, but then the thought was gone. He had been asleep for a long while, frozen in time. He would not have survived the trip if he had not been. He had come a long way from a world he could never go back to.

    As the ship passed around the dark side of the moon and into the sun’s light again, a remarkable change occurred inside the craft. The sphere’s upper hull became transparent, allowing the star’s light to bathe the child. He shifted idly in his sleep, stretching out in the warmth. The gentle hum of the ship reverberated inside the dome, quieting his sleep. He could feel the sun’s rays on his skin, revitalizing him. It was so different from the light of his home, richer and fuller in some fashion. Though he did not know, could not know, the light of this star had been the reason for his destination. It would feed him, make him stronger and faster than any other creature he would meet when his ship landed on the tiny planet that was its destination. It had been imagined that he would be like a god to them, descending from the heavens with fire and glory. He would have power, knowledge from behind the stars, everything that he would need to lead those lesser than him to glory.

    If the child thought about the future that awaited him, it didn’t seem to bother him. He lowed peacefully in the light of the star, stretching out quietly. Then the hull abruptly darkened again as other objects appeared beside it.

    Meteorites hurtled by the small craft, caught in the gravity of the blue planet that was the ship’s destination. The fragments were dark and jagged hunks of stone, shot through with streaks of a green, glowing crystal vein. As the green light reached the craft, it seemed to shudder and then began to shine with a brilliant white light of its own. The meteorites passed around the ship wildly, bumping and crashing into one another. Harsh dust and other small particles from the collisions clattered across the hull of the ship, but it held its course, only veering now and then to avoid running into one of the larger fragments. One of the meteorites smashed through a tiny satellite orbiting the planet, adding to the debris caught up in its wake.

    As the ship and the meteorites passed into the edges of the planet’s atmosphere, the friction raised the temperature outside to incredible levels. Some of the smaller meteorites burned away in brilliant flashes of light, but the larger rocks kept going. The heat around them produced some startling changes in the green crystal veins though. Some of the stones fused and took on different colors, some red, others gold, and even blue. As the intense heat converted them, the stones began flashing wildly and sending out arcing bursts of energy into space. The ship meanwhile, rode out the heat without incident, the extreme temperature somehow being reflected by the skin of the craft. Inside, the child slept through it, hardly noticing any difference.

    But then something unexpected happened.

    A fragment broke off from a meteorite and, with the intense heat and force already buffeting it, the ship couldn’t swerve to avoid it. The chunk of rock, perhaps no more than ten inches across, shattered against the right edge of the ship and pushed it off course. The change was minute, not even a degree, a second’s, difference in fact.

    But it was enough.

    The ship hurtled through the air, descending into the inner atmosphere of the planet. Still on fire, it streaked over a vast body of water. Along side it flew the meteorites, which depending on their weight and path of entry, began to disperse over the planet. A large number still fell along side the ship, pulled along in its wake. The water underneath it gave way to a gentle, rolling land as the ship began its descent. The child was awake now, the roaring and shaking bringing him out of his deep sleep. He clutched the sides of his pod, suddenly afraid for the first time in his life. Something was wrong, he could feel it in the tremor of the ship. Something had gone wrong.

    Indeed, something had. The ship was still going too fast. It passed over the abandoned field which its creator had deemed safe and isolated enough from his vantage point, so long and far ago. It tried to begin a turn that would put it back on course, but momentum had hold of it now and there was no going back. It darted through the air above fields and homes, coming in for a crash landing. The engines, preset to fire and slow the landing, tried to compensate, but the ship was still going too fast. This had not been planned on and the ship could not respond. It obliterated the first house it passed through, and then another, and another, and another. The child began to scream, calling out in a strange tongue for someone, anyone. Completely out of control, the ship tumbled and rolled, destroying everything in its path until it struck the pavement of a broad street and smashed deep into the ground. The hull, which had weathered the gravity and intense heat of countless suns, buckled finally and cracked in.

    For a moment, there was silence. Then the tiny pod, tried beyond all the plans of its maker, slowly opened the spherical pod with a screech. Even as it did, the computers that had governed its flight and controlled the sleep of its passenger blinked and died out. The child opened his eyes and stared out, at first too frightened to move. He stared at his strange surroundings, so different from his dim memories of the past. Then slowly, he climbed out of the pod.

    The ground was hot to the touch, but he barely noticed. He gazed around, taking in the devastation around him. Then there was noise, people shouting and crying out and pointing at him. He turned, staring at them. They looked familiar, but were not, he knew. He could sense that, they were different. He was alone here. Then a great roaring came from overhead and they all looked up, human and alien alike, as the meteorites passed above them, burning with fire and wrath.

    A strangely adult thought passed through his young mind. Nothing would ever be the same here, he thought. Not for anyone.

    Chapter 1

    Clark woke up and it was several moments before he could even remember where he was. He got up slowly and turned on the lamp by his bed, the sudden light making him blink his eyes quickly. He was in his room at the farm, his school books piled on his desk with the notes he had been going over the night before. A Smallville High jacket was curled over his chair, looking weathered and a bit beaten, the white faded and no longer the bright color he remembered from last year. He rubbed his forehead briefly and then got up stretching.

    The dream had been so real, he thought quietly. Disturbingly real. He threw back his covers and climbed out of bed, stretching. Clark didn’t dream very often; not even about a certain dark-haired beauty he knew. Sometimes he dreamed about strange buildings and nonsense words that didn’t make any sense. He’d never put any thought into his dreams before though. He left that for his mother, a great believer in dreams was Martha Kent. She frequently enjoyed dissecting hers, or anyone else’s, over the breakfast table, looking for hidden meanings and warnings. His father would often remark during this that he wouldn’t believe his dreams unless they came regularly and always said the same thing: good weather, healthy crops, and fine times ahead. His mother usually responded that you couldn’t force a dream to say anything, but he’d laugh and return to his paper, smiling at her.

    Clark wondered idly what his mother would make of his dream as he padded through the upstairs quietly. The door to his parents’ room was open and he could see that it was empty. Downstairs, he could hear them chatting quietly and he smelled the delicious scent of his mother’s bacon and eggs come wafting up from the kitchen. Hopping in the bathroom, he quickly showered and got ready, pulling some relatively clean clothes off his floor to wear.

    As he passed by the hallway mirror, he could see his reflection out of the corner of his eye. He was tall for a seventeen year old, with broad shoulders and dark hair. His face was dominated by a jaw-line that his friend Chloe had once said, ‘wouldn’t look that out of place on a statue.’ He still didn’t know what to think of that. Clark thought his face was serviceable, handsome without being too showy. He worried about his hair sometimes though. It hung wildly and seemed to refuse to be tamed by any comb. He’d noticed that a lock of his hair tended to curl up on his forehead when he wasn’t looking and that always bugged him. He’d considered cutting it back, but it was hard enough keeping his hair this length in the first place. That was of course, because Clark Kent wasn’t your normal teenage boy, if such a creature even existed.

    He though uneasily about how similar his arrival on this planet and his dream had been. At first, he’d just thought he’d been reliving those events, until things had started to go wrong. He hadn’t landed in the middle of town, but in a field outside of it. And, as if by fate, it had only been Jonathon and Martha Kent who had seen his ship crash. The two, childless, had taken him in and loved him from the start, vowing to keep his secret safe for the rest of their lives. For a while, they had probably thought that wouldn’t be too difficult because from all outward evidence, Clark looked just like any normal human boy. But as they’d slowly discovered, he was most definitely not. As he’d gotten older, his strength had grown so much that he could now perform feats that were beyond belief. He could lift a car up easily with one hand, and was literally impervious to pain and injury. His could run and move faster than the eye could see, and most startling of all, was even able to see through almost any surface. Recently, his vision had taken a new and almost dangerous twist; by focusing himself, he could cast intense waves of heat through his eyes, capable of melting stone. Not even Clark knew whether this was the last of his abilities to emerge, but at times he wondered what else lay in store for him.

    “As long as it’s not a pair of little antenna,” he reasoned to himself, “then it’s alright with me.”

    He came into the kitchen and sat down on one of the stools. His mother had already laid out a plate with silverware and glasses ready for him. She was munching on a piece of toast and fussing with a pan full of scrambled eggs on the stove. He noticed that she was wearing one of the new business suits she’d bought when she’d taken her new job with Lionel Luthor. His father was standing by the open kitchen door with his favorite mug, which was spotted like a cow. He glanced back at Clark and smiled, raising his cup.

    “I thought the smell of breakfast would get you up,” he smiled at him.

    “Morning, Clark,” his mother said. She carried the pan over and heaped the contents on his plate. “We really need to get you a new alarm clock one of these days. You’re going to be late for school.” He grunted something that could have been in agreement, too busy with his breakfast to go on.

    “Clark could get up with five minutes to spare, do my chores, put the cows out in the fields, drop the produce off at the market, run to school and still have four minutes to spare,” his father joked with her. He walked over and gave her quick peck on the cheek, stealing a piece of bacon from the plate she was carrying as he did. She smiled sweetly at him and put the plate on the table in front of Clark. “No need for an alarm clock with your cooking. And besides, have we forgotten what happened to the last one?”

    “That was an accident,” Clark said in between bites. “I hit the snooze button a bit hard.”

    “You put your hand through the nightstand, Clark.”

    “It was an old nightstand,” he protested.

    “Well, you’re going to have to learn how to get up on your own then,” his mother chided him. “I’m not going to be able to cook for you every morning, you know,” she said, carrying the pan to the sink. Clark could sense what was coming next. He saw his father frown and walk back over to the window, staring outside.

    “Mr. Luthor’s going to need me to come in an hour earlier for the next few weeks,” she told them. “And maybe a few hours later as well.”

    “I take it you already agreed to this, so there’s no reason for me to give you my opinion about it?” his father asked coolly.

    “Everyone’s going to be very busy,” she explained to him patiently. “He needs me there.” Jonathon took another sip from mug and said nothing.

    When the silence got threatening, Clark asked her quickly, “What are you going to be doing?”

    “Last minute agreement things; checking on contracts, reviewing proposals,” she said, moving about the kitchen quickly. She picked up a briefcase he’d never seen before and started to put some papers in it. “Lionel’s signed a lot of deals with Wayne Enterprises.”

    Clark choked on his meal and took a quick gulp of milk. “Wayne Enterprises? That’s not…”

    “Yes, Bruce’s company. He bought up a lot of failing manufacturing and industrial companies and joined them together. He’s certainly stirring up things in Gotham. Lionel certainly underestimated him. He tried to short change him on a deal and Bruce wound up stealing a few contracts out from under his nose.”

    Jonathon snorted into his cup, but Martha ignored that. “I have to say it’s nice to see him doing something constructive for a change,” she went on. “When he was in town last summer, the way he carried on… Well, it’s just nice to see him starting something that won’t end up with someone in the hospital.”

    “The way Lionel conducts his business,” his father remarked, “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Or from what we know of Bruce either.”

    Clark understood that perfectly. Bruce Wayne had been traveling with a circus under the name of Tom Malone when he’d come to Smallville. Why someone with his amount of wealth would be living that way had been something of a mystery at first. Even more puzzling was his habit of showing up at just the right time, like when Lana had been attacked by a pair of car-jackers and Bruce had saved her. He had gotten suspicious and followed Bruce, but that had only complicated matters, revealing both of their secrets. He’d discovered that Bruce was some sort of vigilante, attacking criminals, and Bruce had found out about his powers. Neither had been happy about it, but a series of murders had forced them to pool their talents to survive and bring the killer to justice. It had also forced them to develop a kind of grudging respect for the other. Bruce might have been many things; stubborn, arrogant, intense, but he was also brilliant and very determined. If the Lionel wanted to take him on, Clark knew how much of a fight he was in for.

    “Simply terrible about Lionel,” Jonathon remarked from the door, still looking out. Martha rolled her eyes in irritation. Clark watched the two of them, unsure of what to say.

    His parents had always been divided when it came to the Luthors; both Lionel and Lex. His mother was willing to give them a chance, but his father had always seen things differently. His attitude towards them was that “leopards don’t change their spots.” Clark might have felt differently about Lex, but that fit Lionel pretty accurately in his view. When his mother had taken the job as Lionel’s personal assistant, it had only made things worse. She had told them she was only doing it because they needed the money, but sometimes Clark wasn’t sure.

    Desperate to lighten the mood in some way, his eyes fell on the briefcase. “So, new briefcase, huh?” he tried to ask brightly. He saw his mother flinch and he instantly regretted it.

    “It was a gift,” she said quickly. She put the last few papers in it quickly and shut the lid, setting it on the floor. Clark caught a glimpse of the embossed initial, LL, on the flap before it disappeared under the table.

    “I think I’ll check on the cows,” his father remarked from the door and stepped out without another word. Thunder rolled suddenly overhead as Martha looked after him sadly. When she turned back to Clark, she gave him a wan smile.

    “Storm’s coming,” she told him. “You almost never see those in the morning, huh? Gonna be pretty bad, I guess.” Clark nodded lamely as he finished up his breakfast.


    “Virginia Woolfe, Chloe,” Pete asked her, amused. “Why, of all people, did you choose Virginia Woolfe to do a paper on? You do know you’ll actually have to read some of her books, don’t you?” Classes were over for the day and they were walking back through the halls to the lockers. Pete idly munched on what was left of his lunch, sharing with Clark, as Chloe and Lana walked slightly ahead of them, chatting quietly.

    “I was going to choose Upton Sinclair, but I’d rather not have to take breaks throughout my research to barf up my lunch and swear off bologna, thank you very much,” she told them breezily. Her blond hair curled up at her neck and bounced as she walked. “And besides, it’ll be an easy report,” she went on. “Blah blah blah… women’s rights… blah blah blah… male dominated society. Easy A. I’m too busy with the paper to actually put effort into this.”

    “I didn’t think you’d take something like that so lightly,” Lana mentioned, a bit puzzled. Taller than Chloe with a slightly exotic complexion, she was a natural born beauty. Not only that, she was one of the kindest and most caring people Clark knew. She glanced back at him and he felt the blood go rushing to his face. He always seemed to feel that way when she looked at him.

    “Clark, Pete,” Chloe asked, bringing him back to reality, “do you still work for the paper?”

    Pete and Clark shared a quick look. “Sure, last time I checked,” Pete replied. “I mean, we write an article here and there, if you call that work.”

    She rolled her eyes but chose to ignore the comment. “Then you both work for me, right? Since I run the paper, correct?”

    “When you put it that way,” Clark said slowly.

    “So I can order you around or even fire you if I want to. I’m your boss.” Chloe turned back to Lana and nodded. “I think I’m about as liberated as I need to be, thank you.”

    “That’s not really the point,” Lana started to say, but Clark shook his head.

    “It’s not worth arguing with her,” he told her. “Trust me.”

    She laughed and then asked, “So who did you both choose?” Lana was in the other English class than the rest of them.

    Clark took out a thin book and held it out to her. “I got Lewis Carroll and Pete chose George Orwell. I figured, if I have to do a project about a past author, I may as well have some fun with it.”

    Lana looked impressed. “Well, I guess we can count on you staying in for a while,” she joked with Pete. “Looks like you’ve got a bit of research ahead of you.”

    “Not really,” he shrugged. “I checked the bookstores before we chose topics. Do you know how many Cliff Notes there are about him? It should be a crime to use them.”

    “I think that’s why it sorta is,” Clark pointed out. At that moment a crack of thunder practically shook the school. Everyone jumped unconsciously and looked around nervously. The storm had started just before school and hadn’t let up once. If anything, the clouds outside seemed to be building in intensity.

    “On that note,” Pete said, looking outside, “who wants a ride home?” No one looked that thrilled. “C’mon, guy with a cool car here, free ride, it’s raining, what’s not to like?”

    “Your car’s a convertible,” Lana gently reminded him.

    “The top works most times,” he said, nonplussed.

    “As exciting as that sounds, I’ll pass,” Chloe said. “My dad’s of the belief that if you do anything during a storm you’re risking electrocution. I’d rather finish up the Torch here than hiding under my covers at home.”

    Pete nodded grudgingly and looked at Lana. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m study hall bound. I promised I’d help tutor someone.”

    “That’s alright,” he sighed. He turned towards Clark.

    “Okay,” he agreed. “See you later,” he said to Chloe and Lana.

    “Ooh, before I forget,” Lana said and started to dig around in her bag. “I have something for all of you.” She brought out film envelope and pulled out a stack of photos. “I was going through the junk drawer in the Talon and look what I found. From the grand opening; I guess Nell must have stuffed them in there and forgot about them. Ugh,” she said, holding up a photo, “look at me. That’s what I get for living off of coffee and no sleep the week before.”

    “I know that routine,” Chloe said dryly. She flipped through a few of the photos and passed them to Pete. “I never know what to say when I see myself in a photo,” she admitted. “I mean, I look like me, what else is there to say?”

    “Something like, ‘I’m looking fine,’ or my personal favorite, ‘Look who’s got it going on,’” Pete suggested to her. He pulled out a picture of him and another girl dancing and held it up. “As shown in this photo.”

    “I don’t know about that,” she rolled her eyes, “but I’ll give you bonus points if you can actually remember the girl’s name you were dancing with.”

    He stood there for a moment, and then looked at the picture closely. “Huh,” he said finally.

    “She must’ve been really special,” Lana said to Chloe.

    “Absolutely,” she agreed.

    Clark chuckled and took the rest of the photos from Pete’s hands. He flipped through them quietly and then stopped at one and pulled it out. It was of all four of them, posing together in front of the Talon emblem. “Mind if I steal this one?” he asked Lana, holding it up.

    “Go ahead,” she said. She touched the photo in his hand and smiled at him. “Nice choice by the way. Maybe we should blow it up and keep it in the Talon.”

    Chloe snorted and rolled her eyes. “Okay, that’s really cheesy, but even I have to vote ‘yes’ on that.”

    “Second the motion,” Pete chimed in. “Any opposed? Then the motion is cast. Get the negative blown up and framed and I’m all ready to sign it.”

    “Should be ready by next week,” Lana laughed. Clark smiled and tucked the photo up and stuck it in his wallet. Lana took the rest of the photos from him and stuck them back in the sleeve and in her backpack. “I’ll have the rest in the Talon if anyone else wants to snag any more. Okay?” She smiled at them and she and Chloe started off down the hallways.

    “So,” Pete said, turning to him. “What if we drive around and see if anyone else needs a ride home, okay? I hear the girl’s soccer team gets out after the late busses leave. You never know, you might be able to give a nice looking girl a rescue.”

    “Have fun, Pete,” he told him and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

    “You’re not actually gonna take me up on the ride, are you?” Pete realized.

    Clark looked at him and grinned. “Why don’t we make a little race out of it?” he joked. “You drive, I’ll run.”

    Pete rolled his eyes and gave him a withering look. “Thanks but no thanks,” he shook his head. “You know, I did a lot of oddjobs to save up for that car, and every time you lap it, all I can think about is how long it would take me to save up enough to buy a jet engine. ‘Cause without that, there’s no way I’m ever going to beat you”

    “I could ask Lex about that,” Clark offered him. “He’d probably know what the going rate for one is these days.”

    “Get out of here and leave me to my soccer players,” Pete told him. “Man, I think I liked you better when you were being all mysterious,” he complained.

    A half-hour later, Clark was jogging down the backroads to home, enjoying the feel of the rain against his face. His poncho flapped behind him as he ran, trailing after him like a cape. It kept his shirt and book bag dry but his jeans were already soaked to his hips from the rain and splashing in the muddy roads. Clark didn’t mind though, he’d worked through a lot worse than this at the farm. The rain was actually quite cool and there was something innocently fun about running through the muddy road.

    He ran around the smaller puddles putting his feet down in between them like it was an obstacle course. Laughing, he stepped nimbly around a series of them and saw a much larger puddle stretched across the road in front of him. Unless he left the road there would be no going around it. A grin stretched across his face, Clark didn’t slow down or step aside, he kept running and when he reached the edge of the puddle, he leapt up. He soared up and over it, at least twenty feet through the air, before coming back down on the other side. Not counting on the muddy ground there, he slipped as he landed and went skidding a few feet on his side.

    Now he was really filthy, but he still didn’t mind. Clark picked himself up and tried to brush some of the mud off his jeans. That had been kind of stupid, he told himself, jumping like that. What if someone had seen him? He would’ve been hard put to explain how he could jump like that.

    His parents had always harped on that danger, that someone, someday would discover his powers and take him away from them. Clark understood it, he’d been fending off the suspicions of both Chloe and Lex for the past year to realize how real the possibility was, but sometimes he wondered about it. Pete had found out about him, but he’d sworn never to reveal it to another person. If one person could handle it, why couldn’t others, he’d asked.

    His father had remarked that “it only took one. The wrong kind of person finds out, and well… who knows what would happen.”

    The problem was, of course, that he was right. Sam Phelan, a rogue cop from Metropolis, had discovered the truth, and he’d tried to blackmail Clark into committing crimes for him. He’d threatened his family and friends. The reporter, Roger Nixon, had done the same before he’d died. Even Professor Hamilton had almost tortured Pete to get the truth when he’d found the spaceship. There were too many reasons, Clark realized, to keep his powers a secret. But that didn’t make it any easier.

    Most of all, he thought, he wanted to tell his friends. To share with them what made him special. Not that he wanted to rub their noses in it, but he wanted to show them everything he could do, everything he was. He wanted to show Lana, Chloe, and even Lex just who he really was.

    But even as he thought it, he wondered, just what would they say? Chloe had devoted her life to chronicling the strange happenings in Smallville, how would she feel about finding out he was a major part of them? Lex had always gone on and on about how he hated people lying to him, how much he valued the truth in Clark. What would he say? And then there was Lana. Her parent’s had died the day of the meteor shower, an unfortunate casualty of his arrival. How well could she be expected to take that?

    Clark sighed, thinking back over all those things. He started down the road again, and then stopped and looked around once more. There still wasn’t anyone around, and there probably wouldn’t be anyone on the road today with the storm. He hesitated briefly, his better judgment warning him against it, but in the end he gave in and hurried over to the side of the road. Taking off his poncho, he wrapped it around his book bag and stuck them both up in the branches of a nearby tree. Then, grinning like a maniac, he crouched on the ground.

    “On your marks,” he muttered to himself. “Get set. Go!” Clark took off running, dashing at near full speed down the road. The wet mud exploded under his feet, throwing up torrents of brown water to either side of him. Laughing, he tried to turn around suddenly and found himself skidding helplessly along the road, carried by his own momentum. As he finally came to a stop, he fell over, gasping for breath. It was like ice skating or water skiing, he thought, exhilarated. Climbing to his feet, he dashed down the road again, going faster and faster until he slipped and went sliding madly again.

    This was just what he needed sometimes, he thought. To just take off and run, get away from everything that was bothering him. It wasn’t fair that he had all these powers and he could never use them. That wasn’t something he could share with his parents though. How would they be able to understand?

    Sometimes he felt like just taking off during the day and running free. To feel the wind get left behind him as he ran through the countryside. He’d sit in his chair at school and stare out the window and wonder what it would be like to do all the things he’d only dreamed about. To climb Mt. Everest in a day, and then jump off at the very peak just because he could survive the fall. Or to race a train to its destination and beat it there.

    Someday I’ll be able to do all that, he promised himself. Or I’ll do it and let people say what they want. They won’t be able to stop me. I’ll just let them do what they want and not worry about what -

    Lightning crashed to the ground not thirty feet away from him, startling Clark from his thoughts. He tripped and stumbled, sliding to a stop again. The storm was raging overhead more fiercely than ever. A bit frightened, he hadn’t noticed how bad it had been getting. He decided quickly that he’d had enough fun for now and had better get home. He’d been hit by lightning before, and wasn’t in much of a mood to try it again.

    “I guess running down a road surrounded by trees hadn’t been too smart either,” he muttered to himself, spitting out a bit of mud. “Lucky I didn’t get shocked.” He picked himself up and started back for the tree with his books, when another burst hit the ground in the exact same spot previously. Clark jumped again, staring at the impossibility. Then a third bolt flashed from the spot. And another.

    Stunned, Clark stared at it, and then he noticed something: the bolts were almost soundless. There was no thunder. That was as impossible as four bolts hitting the exact same spot one after another. Then a fifth bolt flashed and Clark realized it hadn’t come from the sky. The bolts were coming from the ground. To confirm this, another flashed upwards and then arced overhead and smashed down next to him. He jumped backwards in shock and fell to the ground again.

    “Not lightning,” he hissed between his teeth. “Not lightning!” Another arc flashed from the ground and curved overhead. Clark saw it coming and rolled to the side away from it. The bolt hit the ground and exploded as three more bolts flashed upwards. He tried to get to his feet to avoid them, but the ground was still to muddy, and he slipped to his knees. One of the bolts smashed into the ground by his hand, but the other two fell on him squarely. Instead of exploding, they fastened to him like chains, circling his chest and neck. They burned like fire against his skin, making him cry out. Then suddenly he was pulled off his feet and face first into the mud.

    Clark rolled onto his back and tried to pry the tendrils off him, but it was no good. It seemed like they had a death-grip on him. Slowly they started to pull him forwards. The spot in the ground they’d shot up from was now a circle of shimmering mud about six feet wide. The white arcs of energy were slowly drawing back down into it, pulling him along with them. He tried to brace his feet, but in the muddy road there was nothing to do so against. His feet scrambled and slipped against the mud, as he was pulled closer to the hole. It started to glow brighter as came nearer. Slowly the gap closed between them; first ten feet, then three feet away.

    Finally throwing everything he had into it, Clark let go of the tendrils and sunk his hands into the mud, looking for purchase. His hands felt blindly in the muck as he was pulled slowly backwards. Then, amazingly, he felt something hard underneath his fingers. He latched onto it and felt himself stop right on the edge of the circle. The tendrils tightened against him neck and chest, leaving him choking for air. Still, he held on grimly. The wind whipped overhead as the storm raged on.

    Then he heard it, faintly over the wind. Clark. It was just a whisper in his ear, but it sounded so familiar to him that he froze in shock. He knew that voice from somewhere.

    “Is anyone there?” he bellowed, holding on for all he was worth. The tendrils tugged fiercely at him, but he fought against them, trying to pull himself away. “Can you hear me? Help me!”

    Help me. It came again, echoing him. The tendrils writhed against his skin, getting tighter. One of his hands slipped and he dangled there, fighting for his breath. He clutched at the tendril’s fingers with his free hand, trying to pry them apart. He could feel his fingers slipping in the mud. Help me, it came again, the tendril’s fingers tightening. Then he realized they were fingers, and not bands of energy. Somewhere in the struggle, the tendril’s had formed into great, white arms and they were dragging him in. Like a living thing, they were dragging him in. Help me, it called out desperately. His grip slipped and he was pulled down in a rush, screaming, towards the shimmering circle. His last thought in this world, was that he could see a face in it.

    Then he plunged in, and was gone.

    Chapter 2

    There was a rush of sound, light, and feeling, each more intense than anything he’d ever experienced before. Then it was gone and he was immersed in absolute blackness. The next thing he knew, he was choking. He sucked water into his lungs and gagged for air, waking up in a rush. Somehow, he was now underwater. The cold water bit deep into him and he struggled to the surface. He gulped air and paddled about, blinking to clear his eyes.

    He was in a lake, about twenty feet from the shore. He stared about, paddling in the cold water. A small bridge extended over his head; wide enough to support one lane of travel. He swam over to the shore, and pulled himself onto the bank. There he collapsed, gasping for air. He’d never felt so drained before in his life.

    For a long time he lay there, half out of the water. The sun shone down on him from the clear sky overhead, warming his skin. Finally he pulled himself up to his knees and stood up, his legs quivering. “Okay,” he said quietly, “what just happened?” A very good question he realized. And here was another, where was he? He stared around slowly, staggering again. Clark knew all the back roads in Smallville by heart, and he didn’t recognize this place. It hadn’t been the road he’d just been on, that was for sure. It didn’t go over any lake, so how had he gotten here? He stared around, and realized slowly, that he didn’t recognize the lake either. Where was he?

    Numbly, he turned around and made his way up the bank on his hands and knees. Reaching the top, he heaved himself up and staggered out onto the road, staring around. The countryside around him looked familiar enough to him, but he glanced back at the lake in puzzlement. A small family of geese was bobbing around in the middle of the lake, honking at him. He brushed his wet hair out of his eyes absently and then stopped as he caught sight of his hand.

    Where the tendrils had grabbed onto his wrist, his skin was a deep red, almost like it had been burned. He rubbed it gingerly, and then touched the skin on his neck, wincing. Without a mirror, there was no way of telling, but he was sure it was just as red.
    “What the hell happened to me?” he gasped.

    Feeling weak, Clark hobbled over to the bridge and sat down on one of the beams. For a few moments, he just rested in the sun, trying to catch his breath. Everything had happened so quickly on the road, he hadn’t had time to think about what had happened. He had just been snatched up and pulled into something, he thought, rubbing his wrists again. But by what? And why?

    There’d been a face there, he thought to himself. At the end, he’d almost seen something, like he’d caught of glimpse of whatever had grabbed him. But now, he couldn’t remember anything about it. He didn’t even know if it had been human or not. But there had been something strange about it, he realized slowly. Something familiar, about the voice, I heard. But what was it?

    Disquieted, he swallowed and stared around again. He glanced up at the sky, noting the lack of clouds and rain. It had been storming not five minutes ago, but now- How long had it all lasted? It looked to be the early afternoon, but beyond that, he couldn’t tell anything else.

    As he stared upwards, his eyes fell on something else that gave him a shock. There was a sign over the bridge, attached to one of the poles. He read it once, and then got up slowly and walked into the middle of the road, staring up at it. “Sales Bridge, Siegel Road,” he read it again. He swallowed again and read it a third time, but it was still the same. “That’s impossible,” he breathed. Siegel road ran through Smallville and up to the interstate a few miles past their farm. His father had taught him how to drive on it. He’d run down it nearly everyday to get to school and town. And in all that time, there had never been a bridge on it.

    As he stared overhead, a car appeared over the horizon. Clark stood there, stunned, still looking at the sign. The driver was forced to stop the car in front of him and lean on the horn. “Get out of the road,” he yelled, leaning out the window. Jumping slightly, Clark moved to the side quickly.

    “Sorry,” he called out. The man shook his head at him and started to drive off. “Um… excuse me? Is that sign right?” he asked, pointing, before he could leave.

    “Of course it is,” he leaned out again. He looked to be about sixty, with a thick gray moustache. Noting Clark’s confused look, he asked, “Something wrong?”

    “I think you could say that,” he muttered. The old man raised his eyebrows. He seemed to take in Clark’s still wet clothes and disheveled appearance. “I kinda fell of the bridge,” he said quickly, trying to laugh it off. “Um… you wouldn’t really know where this road goes, would you?” he asked

    “You lost or something?”

    “New in town,” he said quickly. “Very new.”

    The old man grunted loudly and stared at him a moment longer. Then he shrugged. “Well, if you’re looking for a ride, I might be able to help you,” he offered. He gestured to the back of the truck with his head. “I’ll take you as far as my farm. It’s about a half a mile into town from there.”

    “Thanks.” Wherever he was, getting into town sounded like as good a plan as any. He climbed over the dusty railing of the car and stepped into the back. Then he paused, thinking of something. He leaned over the side to talk to the old man. “’Town’ is Smallville, right? That’s where we’re going?” he demanded.

    The old man turned around in his seat to give him a brief look. “You’re not in any sort of trouble, are you boy?” he asked carefully. “I don’t care much for the corps, but I’m not gonna stick my neck out.”

    Corps? I must have heard him wrong, Clark thought. “No, I’m just… a bit lost. I don’t really know where I am.” The old man searched his face and then turned back. He reached into his glove box and handed it back to Clark. It was an old road map.

    “Knock yourself out,” the old man said lightly. “My name’s Earl Logan if you’re curious.”

    “Clark Kent.” He picked up the map eagerly and opened it up. It was of Smallville all right, but not the Smallville he remembered. Earl started driving back down the road as Clark sat in the back of the pickup, poring over the piece of paper.

    It was wrong, he thought at first. The map had to be wrong. He almost started to ask Earl whether he’d given him the right map, but he caught himself. The old man was suspicious enough about him as it was. Some of the roads and other features, he recognized, but the rest of it might have been of some different town all together. Streets were different, buildings were marked here that Clark knew had been closed down for years. There was the Ross Corn factory, and the old Ironworks. And there was Potter’s…

    He traced Siegel Road’s path out for a moment and then turned around. “Are we near Potter’s field?” he called out.

    “We’re driving through it,” Earl called back, not bothering to turn around. Clark looked up, his mouth open in amazement.

    “It can’t be…” he breathed out. Potter’s field, at least the one he knew, was a barren stretch of soil, rendered barren by the meteor crash. It had been abandoned for as long as Clark could remember. But as he looked out over the land, all he could see was rolling fields of corn. The wind rustled through the stalks and passed by him. It wasn’t possible.

    “What happened to this place?” he asked aloud. “The meteor shower was supposed to have hit this…” He was cut off as the truck stopped abruptly. Earl cut off the engine and stepped out the cab, staring up at him petulantly.

    “What’s this about the meteor shower?” he grated at him.

    “There was supposed to have been a big hit here,” he said, his eyes going back to the field. “This is… I mean, it’s supposed to be all barren.”

    “Like hell there was. Meteor’s didn’t come close to here.” He paused and craned his neck down at Clark, eyeing him fiercely. “Say, you aren’t one of those alien freaks, are you?” Clark flinched and tore his eyes off the field. Alien freaks? How could he-

    Earl spit into the dirt and gave him a hard look. “You all are always digging in my fields, looking for samples and spreading around your crazy stories. Sometimes I’m even glad we’ve got the Luthor Corps to keep you all away,” he snarled.

    “But there was a strike…”

    “That’s all you people ever want to talk about,” he went on, ignoring Clark. “That or aliens coming down with the blasted things. Why don’t you go bother someone else? I wasn’t even living here on Red Tuesday.”

    If Clark was confused before, he was positively stunned now. It was like his ears weren’t working right. He couldn’t be hearing this, could he?

    “I don’t understand,” he managed to blurt out, “what’s this about aliens?” Earl grunted and started to get back in the truck. “No please! Just tell me what you mean!” It was apparently the wrong thing to say.

    “That’s it,” he remarked and turned back. “Out of the truck. I’m not taking you any further. Find your own way into town.” Clark numbly climbed out of the back, still trying to understand what was going on. First that strange lighting shower, and then all the other weirdness, and now this?

    The old man climbed back into the truck and slammed the door shut. “And I don’t want to see you on my lands, you hear me? Dig anywhere else you want, but don’t go bothering me again!” He paused and then leaned over in the truck cab. “Here,” he said, removing something from the glove box. “If you’re so interested in the damn things, have one, just leave me be!” He tossed something at Clark as he drove off. Clark caught it instinctually, still staring at the receding car. Then he glanced down at and promptly dropped it and jumped back. Earl had tossed him a chunk of green stone about the size of a baseball. It was a meteor rock.

    Clark stared at it like it might bite for a moment, but then he realized something. He raised the hand he’d caught it with and turned it over. There was none of the tell-tale reaction he usually experienced when he got near even a tiny meteor fragment. A rock that size should have had him on his knees in seconds, but he hardly felt a thing. Gingerly, he bent down and picked it up, still waiting for the radiation to hit him, but nothing happened.

    “What the hell?” he muttered, turning it over in his hands. It looked like a chunk of the meteor, but where was the radiation? He studied it closer, wishing he had a microscope handy. Then again, he reasoned, he wouldn’t be able to tell if it was for real or not even if he had one. He’d never studied the meteor stones that closely before, preferring to stay far away from them.

    While he was staring at it, he suddenly heard a high pitched scream. He cocked his ears, listening. It came again and he pinpointed it. It was a female, young, probably around his age. He shoved the stone into his jacket pocket and took off running, following the sound. It had come from the old iron works, not too far off the road. The ‘new’ ironworks, he had to remind himself as he saw it. It wasn’t the run down, husk he remembered, but a functioning building now. There was a chain link fence surrounding the property and inside Clark could see rows of cars and trucks, all of them dirty and broken down.

    It must be some sort of junkyard now, he realized. Then he heard the scream again, and with it, the harsh barking of dogs. He came to a halt as he saw a girl come running through one of the aisles of junkers, clutching something to her chest. She was making for the fence, but hot on her heels were four large, angry dogs. She wasn’t going to make it, he thought, seeing how close the dogs were.

    Clark ran up to the edge of the fence and vaulted himself over easily. He landed and motioned to the girl, holding his hands out. She clutched something to her chest tighter and ran faster. Her long blonde hair was whipping behind her fiercely as the dogs nipped at the ends of her leather jacket. Pouring on the speed, she managed to reach him with seconds to spare. He grabbed her and practically threw her over the fence and to safety. He saw her clear the edge and drop roughly to the grass on the other side. As Clark started to climb up after her, one of the dogs latched onto his leg tightly. Frowning, he shook him off as gently as he could and saw the dog drop off with a yelp of surprise. He climbed the rest of the way up and jumped down to the other side of the fence.

    “There you go,” he said, landing easily. “Lucky I came along.” The girl groaned and picked herself off the ground, still cradling the box.

    “God, thank you so much,” she said, dusting herself off. “The last thing I needed was to wind up as Alpo for those mutts.” There was something about her voice that was oddly familiar. Her jeans were torn and a bit dirty from the run, but they looked like they’d been expensive once. She was about a foot shorter than him, but her figure was definitely adult. Clark caught himself staring at her tight t-shirt and tore his eyes away.

    “You should probably be a little bit more careful then,” he said as she straightened up. “I mean, that probably wasn’t the safest place to…” he stopped as he got a better look at her. She had a very pretty face, with a kind of pert, spunky look to it. She brushed out her long hair and gave him a one sided smile that he knew well. For what seemed the fifth time today, Clark was speechless.

    “So what’s your name, handsome?” Chloe Sullivan asked him with a smile.

    Chapter 3

    It was like someone had unplugged Clark’s brain. He wasn’t capable of rational thought. All he could do was stare at the girl in front of him, looking her up and down and refusing to accept what he saw. It was not Chloe Sullivan, it couldn’t be. It was impossible.

    “So, you have a name?” she asked finally, tilting her head in a way that sent a shudder of familiarity through him. If this person wasn’t Chloe, she certainly looked like her. She had the same smile, the same face, the hair was longer, but it was the same vibrant gold he remembered. There was the same sparkle in her eyes. She smiled a little as she waited for him to speak.

    “Cl… Clark,” he managed to choke out finally.

    “Is that with one cluck or two?” she remarked. She waited for him to laugh and then shrugged when nothing was forthcoming. “So, I guess they only make them big and pretty where you come from, not too swift on the uptake. Pity.” She turned around, her hair whipping about behind her. “Thanks again for the save,” she called back as she started off.

    He watched her leave for a moment before his brain kicked back into gear. “Wait a minute,” he called, running up to her. He caught her arm to pull her back.

    She glared down at his hand and then looked up at him. “You want to keep that?” she asked him acidly. He jerked his hand back and she nodded.

    “Sorry, I just wanted to talk to you,” he said.

    “Better ways to ask a girl,” she remarked.

    He blinked and then frowned a little. “Like saving your life?” he asked her quickly. She considered that and then smiled at him.

    “I’m all ears,” she told him. Chloe shifted around the metal box she was holding and waited.

    “Okay,” he said, trying to find a way to start. The best way he decided, was to be blunt. “You don’t know me right?” he asked her.

    She looked at him closely and then shrugged. “Sorry, but no. Should I?”

    “But that’s,” he said, “that’s impossible…”

    “Oh no. Let me guess,” she broke in, giving him a wry look. “We shared something very special once, right? We were soulmates or something? Probably met at a party or something and we just clicked, huh? Shared something wild and passionate that changed your life forever, is that your version? Well, bottom line, if we did, I can’t remember, and if I can’t remember, it probably wasn’t worth it in the first place.” Clark took a step back, shocked.

    “Sorry to ruin your big fantasy, buddy, but that’s life,” she tossed off. On the other side of the fence they heard a door swing open loudly. The dogs picked up their barking on cue. Chloe bit her lip and hugged the box tighter to her chest.

    “Geez, don’t get a break around here,” she yelled, and grabbed his arm. “Run!” she called out and tugged him after her. They took off across the road and through the fields. Clark could only follow after her, thoroughly confused.

    Just where had he wound up that this was Chloe Sullivan? Was this some sort of joke? Or a dream? He didn’t remember falling asleep, all he remembered was the strange lighting shower and being pulled into some sort of…

    “Portal,” he breathed out. They reached the edge of the forest and stopped, Chloe bending over and resting on her knees, puffing. It must have been a portal, Clark thought, standing there. There was no other way he could explain it. He wasn’t in Smallville anymore, not his Smallville anyway.

    Chloe sat down on the ground and put the metal box on her lap. “I hate running,” she complained. “Damn dogs.” She started to fiddle with the box on her lap. Frowning, she glanced at him. “Did you say something?”

    “Nothing,” he said quickly. She shrugged and went back to studying the box. Pulling out a pin, she started to pick the lock.

    “What are you doing?” he asked quietly, frowning.

    “Checking it for defects,” she remarked. The lock sprang open with a click and she pulled it off. “Look, there’s one now.” She tossed it over her shoulder and opened the box. It was partly full of tens and twenties. To Clark’s unbelieving eyes, Chloe scooped them up and started to grin.

    “You’re stealing!” She shushed him and motioned for him to keep his voice down. “What are you doing with that?” he demanded, much more softly.

    “Don’t preach to me,” she warned him, pocketing the money. “I appreciate the help with the dogs and all, but there’s a limit to how much I owe you.”

    “You have to return that, Chloe. I’m serious, you could go to jail for something like that."

    She smirked at him and got up, kicking the empty box aside as she did. “Yeah, like my uncle would let that happen. And I don’t recall telling you my name,” she turned back to him.

    “I… uh…” he stuttered, trying to think of an answer.

    “Oh right, the connection thing,” she shook her head. “God, I’m glad I don’t remember you,” she told him and started to walk off.

    “You have to return that money, Chloe!” he told her, running after her.

    “What do you care?”

    “I care because I don’t want to see you wind up in trouble,” he told her, a little exasperated.

    “That’s only if you get caught,” she smirked at him. “And stop following me! It’s not that I don’t appreciate the save back there, but it’s getting a little creepy now.” She pointed at his muddy clothes. “Besides, you look like you just fell in a river.”

    “Lake actually,” he admitted.

    “Did you hit your head on the bottom, ‘cause that would explain a lot.” She tried to walk a little faster, but he kept up right behind her. They crossed over the fields and onto a tiny dirt road. Chloe tucked the wad of money into her jacket and started walking nonchalantly as Clark followed after her. She glanced back at him quickly and started walking even faster. He matched her speed easily, lengthening his stride. Finally, she turned around and stared at him, incredulous. “God, are you slow? Go. Away. I don’t want you near me.”

    “Look if I had any other choice I would,” he said in a rush. “I just got here and you’re you, but you’re not and neither is anything else and it’s all really confusing right now.”

    “Look,” she said, leaning in close to him, “even on my best day, I wouldn’t care enough to talk you down from this. So my suggestion is to turn around, go back to that lake you fell in before, and try again. Maybe you’ll get it right and drown this time.” Clark blinked in response, and then a black pickup appeared at the end of the road. Chloe glanced at it quickly and then sighed, shaking her head. “And now this day is perfect,” she said, dryly.

    The truck pulled up next to them and a young man who looked vaguely familiar to Clark leaned out of the driver’s side window, smiling at them, or more precisely at Chloe. He had dirty blond hair cut short and had a flat ugly face. “Chloe,” he said lightly, leering down at her. “What brings you out here?”

    “Open road, Sean” she shrugged, giving him a fake little smile. “Not breaking any laws going for a walk, am I?”

    “I don’t know about that, but I guess you’d be the expert.” She smiled a little broader at that, then looked away, muttering under her breath. Sean looked over at Clark, as if seeing him for the first time and gave him an appraising glance. “He always look like that, or did I catch you two at a bad time?” he asked, nodding at Clark’s clothes. Clark glanced down at himself, shifting his weight uncomfortably. Looking back up, he noticed that Sean was wearing a Smallville High Football jacket and something finally clicked in his head.

    “Sean Kelvin?” he blurted out. Sean and Chloe stared at him.

    “Yeah,” he nodded slowly.

    “But- But you died,” Clark said, bewildered. “You froze in the lake.”

    Now they were really staring at him. “Excuse me?” Sean asked.

    “Forget about him,” Chloe remarked. She stepped in front of Clark and stared up at Sean. “Look, I need to get into town. Can you just give me a ride or something?”

    “He coming too?” He nodded over her shoulder to Clark.

    “In every sense of the words ‘God, no’,” she replied.

    “Good,” he said shortly, giving Clark a worried look. “Hop in.” He opened the passenger door and scooted back to the driver’s seat.

    “Well,” Chloe said, turning back to Clark, “it’s been… “ she searched for a word for a moment and then just smiled and shrugged at him. “See ya.”

    “Wait a minute,” he said quickly. “You’re just leaving?”

    “And now you catch on quick,” she rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m sorry if your lost or something, but I don’t see how I’m supposed to help you with any of this. So see ya…” she floundered for a name.

    “Clark,” he said quickly. “Clark Kent, I’ve been your best friend for like three years now. You have to remember!” She took a step back and Sean opened the driver door, staring down at them.

    “Chloe?” he asked quickly, giving Clark a hard look.

    She ignored him for the moment and stared at Clark intently. “For the last time,” she said quietly to him, “I don’t know you, and I don’t even think I want to know you. Now are you going to let me go or are we going to have a problem here.”

    He stared at her for a moment and then shook his head, backing off. “Sorry. I didn’t mean-“

    “Yeah, whatever,” she snapped. She hurried around the truck and climbed in, slamming the door behind her. Clark stood there, blinking as they drove off, the tires kicking some of the dirt back towards him. He watched it disappear down the road and then looked around at the fields and woods around him. Then he pulled the meteor rock out of his jacket pocket and held it up, giving it a bewildered look.

    “Where the hell am I?” he breathed out, looking back down the road again.

    Chapter 4

    With nothing else left for him to do, Clark followed Sean’s truck into town, staying far enough behind them to keep from behind seen. And the nearer they got to the town, the more he saw what else was now different in Smallville. Most of the farms and homes that he remembered on the outskirts of town were now abandoned or bulldozed over. A few of the fields had been replaced by crummy looking housing projects and trailer yards. He could have counted on one hand the number of working fields left.

    There were also a number of new Luthorcorp buildings that Clark didn’t remember. Shipping plants, office buildings, factories, they were all scattered around the outskirts of town. They even passed what suspiciously looked like a smaller version of a nuclear power plant, but Clark couldn’t be certain. How had all of this happened, he wondered. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of the answer.

    Finally, they came to the edge of the main town and Clark had to slow down quickly, to keep from behind seen. He doubted that things had changed that much where a teenager moving at super-human speed wouldn’t draw a notice or two. He hurried down the street, watching Sean’s truck pull to a stop at a light. Ducking into an alley, he glanced out quickly to see if they’d moved on yet. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to follow them now that he couldn’t keep up anymore.

    “Hey, you got a buck?” a rough voice asked him, making him jump. Clark turned around quickly, staring downwards. A man was lying in the alley, wrapped up in torn cardboard and old newspaper. He stared up at Clark with a slightly off-center gaze. “Anything, man?” he asked again.

    “Here,” he said, a little put off, as he pulled out his wallet. He mechanically pulled out a few bucks and handed it to the man.

    He took it eagerly. “Bless you, son.” He stared at the money, smiling a little and tucked it away inside his stained shirt. Clark moved away from him slowly, backing out of the alley, more than a little disquieted.

    He’d never seen a homeless person in Smallville before. That sort of thing didn’t happen here. He’d seen them in Metropolis, yes, but not in Smallville. Glancing down at his feet, he saw that the sidewalk was covered with cigarette buts and other pieces of garbage. There was a trashcan not five feet from him that was dented in and overflowing. Then he looked around him, as if for the first time, and saw the grubby buildings and spray-painted walls of the town. He saw the people hurrying past him with their heads down, not making eye-contact. The people he remembered had taken pride in keeping their city clean and hadn’t looked so beaten down. What had happened here?

    The sound of a car door slamming shut brought him back as he turned and saw Chloe climbing out of the truck. He ducked quickly back into the alley before she could see him and then stared around the corner, watching her carefully. She said a few more things to Sean and then walked away. The truck pulled into traffic and made a turn as the light changed. Clark watched it drive off and then focused back on Chloe, who was now walking down the street, away from him.

    He carefully followed after her, staying far behind her and trying to keep out of sight. It was hard work, to stay focused on her as passed by so many strange and puzzling things. He followed her by a wall plastered with posters and flyers for Luthorcorp. All he could do was glance at them quickly, picking up such phrases as First in the Nation: By Demand!, Put Your Faith in The People Behind the Power, and WLIO: Bringing You the Best in Entertainment and News. Even more puzzling was one that said Lionel Luthor: the Man Whose Hand Guides the Nation. He glanced at Chloe’s receding figure and then back at the posters, sorely tempted to turn around and head back, but instead he hurried after her. Maybe she’d able to explain some of this, if he could get her to talk to him that was.

    He followed Chloe past the Beanery, which surprisingly enough looked the same as it always had, and then got another shock for a moment as he glanced into the old antique shop his mother had used to frequent before the woman who owned it had died. Now it looked like it hadn’t been closed a day. Then he saw a girl about his age carry an old chair out from the back of the shop and he stopped dead in his tracks. Someone bumped into him roughly from behind and he heard something drop to the ground, but he hardly noticed. “Tina Greer?” he said as he stared inside.

    “Watch where you’re going,” someone said and Clark turned around, startled. A woman was bending down behind him, picking up groceries and looking at him angrily.

    “Sorry about that,” he said quickly, taking one last glance inside the shop. Then he bent quickly and started to gather her things up. He looked over his shoulder quickly to see where Chloe was, but couldn’t find her in the crowd. “Sorry,” he said again, not looking as he shoved the food in the woman’s bag.

    “Just remember that next time,” she said quickly. She started to say something more when she suddenly stopped and stared at his face, her eyes growing wide. Clark missed her look as he glanced around again for Chloe.

    “I will, I promise,” he said lightly. Then he seemed to notice her silence and turned around, frowning at her. She was still staring at him, her fingers white as she clutched the edge of her bag. “Is everything okay?” he asked her slowly. The woman fell over roughly and started to back away from him on all fours. He stared after her, his mouth open. “Are you alright?”

    “I don’t believe this!” Chloe’s voice rang out. Clark turned around quickly to see her standing just behind him with her hands on her hips. She looked ready to explode. “How the hell did you even follow me here in the first place?” she snapped at him.

    Behind him, Clark heard a sudden scuffling and he turned to see the older woman running away. She’d even left her groceries behind. He watched her dash around the corner and out of sight, utterly bewildered. “Well, I’m waiting,” Chloe said impatiently.

    Turning back to Chloe, he stuttered for a moment, thinking. “I caught a ride into town after you left. I didn’t even know you were in front of me.”

    “Okay, fair enough. You just caught a ride.” She repeated angrily, staring at him. Chloe nodded to herself and looked down the street in either direction. There was no one near them now. “So what way are you going now?”

    “I… uh, don’t really know,” he hesitated, knowing he was trapped now. “That way,” he pointed down the street. Before he was even done speaking, Chloe was walking past him in the opposite direction. “Or maybe not,” he muttered, getting up to follow after her.

    “Guess you’re not that good with directions, huh?” she called back to him, walking faster now.

    “I just need to talk to you for a minute. C’mon, Chloe!”

    She turned around, glaring at him. “How many different ways can I say it? NO! And stop saying that like you know me.”

    “I do know you, or something like that,” he started, but she rolled her eyes and started walking away again. “Okay, how about this then: you’re dream is to become a newspaper reporter,” he said, catching up to her again. “How could I have known that unless I knew you?”

    “Pretty easily since you’re wrong: I haven’t narrowed it down or anything but I was leaning towards groupie or… well, I haven’t thought of something else though, but I’m gonna,” she said in a rush. Then she frowned and looked down at herself for a moment. “And what about me suggests ‘newspaper reporter’ to you anyways?” she gestured with her hands.

    “Okay… So maybe you’re not into newspaper reporting now, but you will be,” he promised her. “Alright, I know how bad that sounds,” he admitted as he caught her look. She stared at him flatly and he went back to racking his brain to find something else.

    “Your father works for Luthorcorp,” he said. She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t respond. “Your favorite color is pink. You have a fear of needles. Oh, you don’t eat tomatoes but you love ketchup!”

    “How did you know-“ she started and then she recovered quickly. “Okay, maybe you do know a bit about me,” she said, nodding slightly. Then she smiled snidely at him and cocked her head. “Congratulations, you’re a stalker.” She turned around again and walked off.

    “The morning your mother left, you came downstairs and found your dad making some eggs for you.” She stopped, frozen in place. “He’d burnt them, but you ate them anyways as he told you what happened. That was the first time he’d ever made you breakfast.” Chloe turned around slowly, her mouth slightly open. Then her face darkened and she stormed back over to him. Rearing back, she slapped him hard across the face. Clark turned his face as she hit him, absorbing the blow.

    “Never say anything else about my mother,” she hissed at him. “You don’t have the right. You didn’t know her and you sure as hell don’t know me.”

    He nodded slightly, seeing the look on her face. “Sorry,” he said, meaning it. “I wouldn’t have if-“ She glared at him, clearly not believing him. “I just need to talk to you, please. I don’t have anyone else here.”

    “Fine then,” she said at last. Then her eyes widened and she cried out, “And ****!” Wincing, she held up her hand, which was swiftly turning beet red. She held it tightly by the wrist, her eyes screwed shut. “Ow, ow, ow…”

    “Oh, geez, sorry!” Clark looked around swiftly. “Let’s get you some ice. The Talon would be the closest place.” He took her bye the shoulders and started to guide her down the street. Chloe shrugged off his help irritably, walking on her own.

    “Don’t bother,” she said angrily. She walked over to a table outside a shop where someone had set down a Styrofoam cup down. Picking it up with one hand, she popped the lid off slightly and poured what was left in it on the sidewalk, keeping the lid in the way of the ice inside. Clark blinked, but didn’t say anything, glancing inside the shop nervously to see if anyone had noticed them. She grabbed a napkin from the table and poured the ice into it. Wrapping it around her swollen hand, she started to leave, nodding for him to come with her.

    “What’s your name, again?” she asked, fussing with the napkin.

    “Clark Kent,” he said, catching up to her. “I’m sorry about that.”

    “Forget about it. So before I broke my hand across your face, what did you want to ask?” she asked shortly, clearly still angry at him.

    He fell into step behind her. “Everything,” he shook his head, a little desperate.

    “You’re going to have to get more specific than that.”

    “Okay, how about that,” he said, spotting a Luthorcorp poster on the wall. It was the same one he’d seen earlier. Lionel Luthor, looking both paternal and respectable, stared back at them. “What’s with all the Luthorcorp stuff? I don’t remember anything like this. If there should be anything up it should be Lexcorp.”

    “Luthorcorp,” she corrected him.

    “Lexcorp,” he stressed it. She stared back at him, still confused, and shrugged. He sighed and shook his head. “Nevermind. Just tell me what Lionel Luthor is doing on a poster.”

    Chloe glanced at the poster and smiled lightly. She reached out and toyed with the edge of the poster. “Luthorcorp puts those up everywhere. I guess they think if they wallpaper the town with them, maybe it’ll make everyone forget about all the crap they cause.” She sniffed and tore it off the wall in one motion, letting it fall to the ground. “Besides, it’s not like anyone is going to stop them. They own the wall, they own the building; hell, they probably own the street we’re walking on. They can advertise if they want.”

    “But how?” He turned around and stared at her. “Luthorcorp doesn’t own anything in Smallville. They used to run the fertilizer plant, but that was bought by Lex.”

    “Lex?” she asked. “You mean Lex Luthor? He doesn’t own anything; it’s all his dad’s. And Luthorcorp owns pretty much everything here. Here and everywhere else in the country.”

    He absorbed this quietly, puzzling it over. Chloe continued to stare at him, looking confused. “You had to have known about this. It’s not like its recent news or anything.”

    “Not to everyone,” he muttered. She shrugged and adjusted the icepack on her hand, not saying anything. He stared down the street, his breath hissing out between his teeth. Then his eyes fell on something and he stepped past her, gaping.

    “What is it?” she asked.

    “Tell me about that,” he said in a hushed voice. She craned her head, looking. “The Talon,” he said, pointing.

    The bright and warm place he’d spent so many afternoons in was gone. Now, the Talon was a boarded up old husk. The marquee overhead was falling to pieces and had been propped up with a length of metal pipe. Peeling movie posters were taped to the doors, all for movies that were a few years old. Clark felt a cold shiver as he stared in the broken, dingy windows. He’d never seen it look this bad, even before Lana had renovated the building from a failing movie theater to a coffee shop. He walked across the street blindly, staring at the boarded up wreck. A car screeched around him, narrowly missing him. Clark didn’t even notice at all.

    Chloe ran after him, dodging cars in the street as she crossed to his side. “What was that about?” she yelled. “You could’ve gotten killed!”

    “What happened here?” he demanded, ignoring her question completely. “This place shouldn’t be a wreck, Lana fixed it up! What’s going on?” She stared from him to the Talon. Grabbing her arms he asked again, “Chloe, what happened?”

    “Let go of me!” she yelled back at him, fighting him. Blinking, he released her and stepped back quickly. She glared back at him, rubbing her arms. He glanced around as people nearby stared accusingly.

    “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “I didn’t mean-“

    “Yeah, well, I don’t really care,” she snapped back. “I had you pegged for a psycho from the start and so far you haven’t done anything to make me think differently. And speaking of which, so what if things are different than you remember? Everything else seems perfectly normal to me and everybody else, so did you ever think it was just you? What if you’re the one who’s crazy, huh? You think of that?”

    “I’m not crazy,” he told her quietly.

    “Yeah? Then I guess it’s just everyone else, huh?”

    Turning angrily, she stormed off across the street. Clark hesitated and glanced back at the Talon. Then he set his chin and started after her. She heard him coming and turned around, her face set, but her eyes are little worried.

    “If you don’t turn around and walk away right now,” she warned him, “I’m gonna scream bloody murder until the cops come.”

    “With that money in your jacket?” he asked quietly. He reached into his pocket and she flinched, but he only pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he took out a picture tucked inside and held it out to her. “This morning I woke up and went to school with all my friends. One of them gave me this, a picture of all of us at the Talon, at its reopening.” She stared at him and then at the photo. “Look at the sign in the window,” he urged her, “look at the girl in the photo. It’s you, or the Chloe Sullivan I know.”

    With trembling fingers, she took the photo and stared at it. “How…” she breathed out. She looked up at him and then at the Talon.

    “I don’t know,” he admitted. “One minute I was running home and the next I was pulled here.” She started to shake her head fiercely and he bent down, glancing around them as people gave them strange looks. “I know this is a lot to believe,” he said quietly, “but you have to trust me. I don’t know where I am or how I got here, but I do know who you are. You’re my friend. You have to help me.”

    She stared up at him in shock. Blinking, she swallowed and then licked her lips, glancing at the picture again. “This is a trick,” she stammered. “It has to be.”

    Before he could say anything, they were distracted abruptly as two large trucks screeched to a halt at the end of the street. Then almost simultaneously, another two pulled up at the opposite end, effectively sealing off the block. As soon as they were stopped, armed soldiers poured out from them, all wearing black and gray uniforms. Unconsciously, Clark grabbed Chloe and hurried her off the street and away from the soldiers, towards the Talon. Everyone else on the sidewalk seemed to have the same idea. In moments, a crowd of about ten people had gathered together around them, staring about fearfully.

    “What’s happening?” someone asked fearfully, but no one had any idea. A woman began to moan quietly, staring at the troops.

    Clark leaned down towards Chloe and gave her a quick look. “What’s going on?” he asked, gesturing to the troops. She didn’t answer.

    A man in his car leaned on his horn fiercely at the massed soldiers in front of him, motioning them to move aside. Someone barked a command and they raised their guns to shoulder level, readying them. His horn died out slowly as he gaped at them. Then fearfully, he scrambled out of his car and dashed to the other side of the street, trying to get away from them. The soldiers were carrying strange, bulky guns, which wouldn’t have looked out of place in a science fiction movie. There was a loud, collective hum as the soldiers flicked something on the guns on, arming them. Then on some order they leveled them at the crowd.

    Someone started to shriek in fear as everyone panicked. A few people took off running, but turned back because there was no where to go. The street was sealed off at both ends by a wall of guns. Then he felt a sudden grip on his wrist and he looked down into Chloe’s fearful eyes.

    “Run,” she said quietly. “Run!”

    One of the soldiers boomed into a mike, “On the ground now! We have you surrounded. Step out of the crowd and no one gets hurt!”

    “What?” he asked, staring down at Chloe.

    “It’s the Luthor Corps!” she hissed at him. “Just get out of here!”

    “What about you?”

    “This isn’t the time to be noble, you don’t know these guys!”

    “On the ground!” the soldier yelled again, waving his gun. Some people in the crowd started to kneel down, looking around nervously. As they did, one of the soldiers had an unobstructed view of Clark.

    “He’s got a hostage!” he called. Almost in the same breath someone gave the order.

    “Open fire!”

    Chapter 5

    In one motion, the soldiers leveled their guns and opened fire on the crowd. Bright, green pulses of light blasted out of the high tech weapons, streaking through the air towards them. People fell as the charges burned through them instantaneously. The blasts tore up the concrete and shattered the marquee over head. Sparks rained down as the old, but still hot, electrical lines inside it were ruptured. A car parked in front of the Talon was perforated in moments. No one but Clark had a chance to move before they were cut down.

    Just as the cry came to fire, Clark had pivoted and grabbed Chloe around the waist. As roughly as he dared, he’d hurled her through the boarded up windows of the Talon, hoping she’d be able to find some cover inside. Then the pulses struck him from behind, knocking him to his knees.

    Clark had been shot before and knew what the punch of a bullet felt like. This was much worse. He gritted his teeth as he felt the skin on his back burn. Then he felt the familiar kick of nausea in his stomach and realized the green color of the pulses hadn’t been a coincidence. The meteor rocks were powering those guns, whatever they were.

    Gasping for breath, he crawled behind the wreck of a car. The shock was quickly fading from him and he was already starting to recover. At least the effect of the meteor rocks wasn’t very strong, he thought grimly. One of the pulses punched a hole in the car a few feet from his head. But they didn’t have to be, he reasoned, not when they had so many of them.

    He stared suddenly at the bodies lying around him. A woman looked back him vacantly, part of her neck sheared away by a blast. His stomach heaving, he looked away as another salvo struck the car. How could they open fire on the crowd like that? Who the hell were these people?

    “Clark!” he heard Chloe call from inside.

    At least she was okay so far, he thought. “Get down,” he yelled as another salvo tore the door to the Talon off its hinges. He grimaced and then stared through the car. The soldiers were advancing on the theater in pairs, weapons ready. He had to find someway to keep them back. Glancing around, he finally settled on the car itself. Reaching underneath it, he felt around quickly till his fingers touched the fuel line. Then with one jerking motion, he tore it open.

    “Hope they get the message,” he muttered as he turned and braced his feet against the car frame. Clark kicked out and sent the car tumbling end over end into the street. The soldiers scattered as the car came to a screeching stop on its side. The ones furthest back shouted as they spotted him and started to raise their weapons. Too late, he thought and he focused his heat vision at the ruptured fuel line.

    The car went up in a fireball, the explosion’s shockwave sending the massed soldier’s flying. Not waiting to see who was left standing, Clark dashed through the ruined doors of the Talon, destroying what was left of the frame. A few random shots smashed into the wood around him, but none came very close.

    “What happened?” Chloe called out to him. She was huddled behind an overturned sofa in the remains of the lobby. Clark jumped over the ratty furniture and landed next to her. “I told you to run!” She clutched at his jacket.

    “If I did that you’d be dead right now,” he hissed at her.

    “My uncle’s a general,” she told him. “He works with Luthorcorp. They wouldn’t shoot me.”

    “They didn’t care about the people out there,” he snapped. “Why should they start with you?”

    She glanced towards the door and her face went pale. “You should have run,” she moaned. “You just should have run.”

    Clark looked back suddenly as he heard the soldiers start to regroup. They’d be ready to storm the building in minutes. “We have to get out of here,” he told Chloe quickly. Taking her hand he dragged her up and towards the back of the lobby. “There’s a back door here to the alley way,” he said. “If we follow that, we’ll come out down the…” he stopped suddenly, brought up short at a mass of rubble. There wasn’t a doorway in sight.

    “I guess Lana put that back way in when they rebuilt,” he muttered to himself. The soldiers were getting louder outside. Frowning, he stared around with his x-ray vision, looking for an opening they could get through.

    “What now?” Chloe said. “How do we get through?”

    Clark stopped and then stared downwards. “We don’t,” he said.

    “What do you mean?”

    Bending down, Clark clenched his fist and then punched it through the cement floor. Chloe leapt back in shock as he pulled it out and then punched again, widening the hole he’d made. Finally, he stood up and kicked at the edges until it was wide enough for them to slip through. “There’s a sewer underneath that’s wide enough for us both to get through,” he said, staring down the hole. “I don’t know where it leads to, but it’s our only bet.” She just stood there, mutely staring at him.

    Finally she managed to choke some words out. “How… how… did you…”

    “We don’t have time, Chloe.” He took her hands and led her to the edge of the pit. “Trust me, I won’t let anything happen to you, okay?” She stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “Good,” he smiled at her. Then he pushed her over the edge.

    “Oh, you son of a-“ she yelled as she disappeared down the hole.

    “Sorry, Chloe,” he muttered, turning around towards the door. The soldiers were right outside the Talon now. One of them smashed in one of the windows and started to fire inside. Clark focused his heat vision on the wooden door frame and the ceiling above the door. In a moment, they burst into flame, sending the troops scurrying back once more. That would only buy them a few more moments, he realized, so they’d have to make the most of them. He turned back to the hole and jumped down through it.

    He landed in knee deep sludge, brackish water, and who knows what else. He gritted his teeth as he felt something bump against his knee and float away. There was enough dim light from the hole above his head to let him see a few feet in front of his face, but that was all. Not that he wanted to see too clearly in here, he reasoned.

    “You bastard!” Chloe yelled at him from a few feet away. She slogged through the water and shoved him. “This is your plan! This!”

    “It beats getting shot up there,” he pointed out.

    “Not when our other option is getting shot down here, it doesn’t.” He gave her a look and she switched gears. “But I’m all up for running now.”

    “Glad to hear it.” He took her hand and started to slog quickly through the muck.

    “How did you do that back there?” Chloe asked him. “You punched through the floor like it was nothing. I’ve never seen anyone do that.”

    “Short explanation: I’m not from around here,” he said tersely.

    “You already told me that,” she sniffed.

    “It’s a little bit more complicated than that,” he yelled as they ran down the sewer tunnels.

    The soldiers were swift and efficient. The wounded were carried out of harms way and swiftly bandaged up. Three of the soldiers broke out the mobile extinguishers and made quick work of the still burning car. The rest kept their guns trained at the Talon. The front door of the theater was a burning wreck, so they were forced to keep their distance for the time being.

    “Get that fire out now,” their commander shouted, waving at the three soldiers battling the blaze. On the outside, she might have seemed cool and in control, but inside she was cursing herself roundly. There was no excuse for this. They were highly trained, motivated, had the best technology money could buy, and they had just botched things like amateurs. Damnit, they’d drilled for just this sort of situation and they’d still failed. She felt like screaming at something, but she did not. Instead, she keyed in her helmet radio with a touch of her fingers and looked skyward as an army issue helicopter roared overhead.

    “Do you have visual?” she shouted into her comm.

    “Nothing yet,” came the reply. “Switching over to infrared.” She waited tersely, staring at the blaze. He was so close now, she thought.

    “Snipers, where are you? Any sign of the target?” she barked into the radio, growing impatient with the chopper.

    “We’ve got two on the courthouse roof and another a block down,” one of her men radioed in. “So far, nada.”

    “If you get a shot, go for the wound,” she reminded them. “Make it painful, we’ve seen how fast he can be.”

    “Is there any other kind?”

    “We’ve got something,” the chopper radioed back. “On the infrared; two signals. Heading southward from the Talon.”

    “Snipers!” she yelled.

    “We’ve got nothing!” they yelled back. “They’re not there!”

    Snarling, she started towards the Talon doors. “Come on,” she barked at her men.

    “What about the wall?” another shouted, gesturing at the Talon. “Shouldn’t we put that out first.”

    In one motion, she drew out a hand gun and fired shot after shot into the top of the burning doorway. The gun wasn’t one of the special Luthorcorp models, designed with suppressing the alien in mind, but instead an old fashioned, fifty-caliber magnum. The high caliber bullets tore the door frame and upper wall to pieces. As it collapsed, the flames were buried under a pile of rubble and plaster.

    “It’s out,” she told them, reloading the gun. Snapping the clip in, she took the point, leading them into the abandoned theater. Climbing over what was left of the doorway, she paused, scanning the room. Her men filed in around her, guns ready.

    One of her men noticed her standing there, and nodded at her. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

    “Fine,” she snapped out of her reverie. “You still following them?” she asked into the radio.

    “Affirmative. Still heading south. They must be in the sewers; I can’t pick them up on visual.”

    “Copy that,” one of her men yelled. “Found the rathole.” She followed him over to the gaping hole in the floor.

    “We’re heading in,” she said to the chopper. “Keep us posted.”

    Chapter 6

    “Stop! Just a second, okay?” Chloe asked plaintively. She coughed and bent over, gasping for breath. It was hard to tell in the near darkness of the sewers, but she looked beat. Neither of them looked that good, he thought. The muck at the bottom of the tunnels had started at ankle deep and was now around mid thigh. Slogging through it had left them soaked and filthy. Every time they so much as brushed the walls, they came back with a thick coating of slime on them. On top of that, there was the smell and the loose floor on the bottom of the tunnel. Bits of stone, rubbish, and other things he didn’t want to name littered the soupy floor, waiting to trip them up and send them sprawling.

    When she managed to catch her breath, she glanced up at him, still bent over. “Why didn’t you run?” she asked hoarsely. “I told you to.”

    “And leave everyone there, you included?” He paused and stared down. “Not that it helped any.” He’d never have imagined those soldiers would just open fire on the crowd like that. He shuddered slightly as he remembered the sight of the bodies around him.

    “Well, thanks anyway,” she said quietly. “I mean, I probably wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t…” she stopped and glanced down at the murky waters. “Well, I definitely wouldn’t be here, but you get my point.”

    He nodded and smiled a little. She stared at him strangely and then looked at his shoulder. Reaching over, she fingered one of the holes in his jacket. “You were shot…,” she said quietly.

    “I’m fine,” he told her, moving her hand away. “Don’t worry.”

    “That’s sorta the point though,” she said, reaching under the jacket. “You’re not even bleeding! And before, you punched through a concrete floor. How did you do that?”

    He hesitated, unsure of how to begin. “It’s hard to explain. You know how I said I wasn’t from here, or at least, this wasn’t the Smallville I knew?” As he spoke, he started down the tunnel and she followed after him.

    “Yeah,” Chloe said. “I’m not sure I know what to think about that right now, but I have to admit that there’s not a lot about you that’s normal.”

    “Thanks,” he said dryly. “Well, what do you know about the day of the meteor shower?”

    “A bit,” she said, hopping over a floating lump of garbage. “I was still in Metropolis then, but people still talk about it. Meteor rocks came down all over Smallville, tore up half the town and killed a lot of people. They’ve got a plaque about it where the old city hall used to be.”

    Clark stopped, looking at her. “They landed in town?”

    “Most of them, I think,” she said. “Why?”

    “I just remember hearing that most of the rocks came down outside of town,” he said quietly. “I guess that’s something else that’s different,” he wondered out loud.

    She seemed to consider this and then shrugged. “So where were you doing all of this?”

    He looked at her for a moment and then told her. “I came down along with them.” Chloe slipped on something suddenly and fell face first into the muck. She came up sputtering and hacking. When she had recovered, she stared up at him in shock.

    “You what?” she asked.

    “My ship came down with the meteor rocks. My parents found me and raised me as their son. I’ve been living here ever since.”

    “Your ship?” she repeated. She blinked and then said slowly, “You’re an… alien?”

    “Is that any harder to believe than anything else I’ve told you?” he pointed out.

    “It’s just a lot of take in,” she remarked, looking a little wide-eyed.

    “Imagine how I felt when my parents told me about it.” He smiled and stared down the tunnel and pointed to a branching path. “I think that one leads out of town.” He started down it and she hurried to catch up.

    “Umm,” she asked hesitantly, “how do you know for sure?”

    “About being an alien?” he asked her. “I guess I wondered about it for a while. I mean, I look like everyone else, and I didn’t really start to get my powers until I was older…”

    “No,” she cut in, “I mean about the tunnel. How do you know it leads out?”

    “Oh,” he said, a little put out, “I can see the streets above us. This leads out of town.” She looked at him for a moment and then nodded slowly. They walked through the tunnels in silence for a while.

    Clark wasn’t sure why he had told her his secret just now. It might have been easier to lie to her, he realized, and just make up a slightly more believable story. As if there was one, he thought dryly. It wasn’t the sort of thing he could share with anyone. He’d never even told Chloe, his Chloe, about his secret, unsure of how she would take it. Not Lex or even Lana. Pete had eventually discovered, but only when Clark hadn’t had anything other choice. Sharing that kind of information with people, once done, it wasn’t something that he could really take back if things went wrong. How would she react, he wondered. It wasn’t like he really knew her, he reminded himself. She looked and sounded like his friend, but there were a lot of differences. Especially considering how they met. And yet, this was Chloe, he thought, one of his best friends. He knew her, or at least, he knew his Chloe. He shook his head. It was all very confusing.

    To break the silence, he asked, “So who were those guys back there?”

    She coughed and spat. “The Luthor Corps: the company’s own private security force. They’re more like mercenaries though. The company keeps them around to do all their dirty work and guard their labs. That’s how they were able to buy up most of the land around here. They’d threaten them, cause a few accidents, or worse,” she glared, “and people would eventually cave in and just sell.”

    “How can they do that? What about the police?”

    “You mean, old Ethan?” she asked, amused. “He doesn’t blow his nose without Lionel Luthor’s permission. The police are all bought off; you spot a brand new Lexus in town I guarantee you it belongs to a cop. They don’t care what happens to the rest of us. They just go after drifters or people like me,” she shrugged. “Same way with the Ledger; it’s more like a promotional flyer than a newspaper. No body cares what happens to this town anymore.”

    “Has it always been like this?” he asked, a little sickened.

    “For as long as I’ve been here,” she said wearily. “I guess things started to change just after the meteor shower. Luthorcorp set up shop in that Fertilizer plant you mentioned before, the one your friend owns. Well, they tore it down and built this huge lab where it used to be. It’s state of the art. My dad used to work there and he told me about it. He used to say there were all these restricted sections inside and all kinds of top secret stuff went on in there.”

    “Used to?” Clark asked.

    “He died,” she said flatly. “There was a lab explosion or something a few years ago.” Clark took a quick look at her face, but she seemed not to care. Or at least, he thought, she was trying to look like she didn’t care.

    “I’m sorry,” he told her. “I know your dad, or I knew him,” he floundered for a moment. “He was, is a good man.”

    She shrugged again and walked ahead of him, so all he could see was her back. “Whatever,” she remarked, her voice tight. Clark kept up behind her, wanting to say something more, but deciding to keep quiet.

    “So anyway,” she went on, “after the meteor shower, the Luthors set up shop in Smallville and started to make a lot of donations, saying they were going to help everyone rebuild.” She looked back at him and smirked. “You can guess where all those donations wound up though.”

    “I’ve seen how Lionel Luthor can corrupt people,” he agreed, thinking of Sheriff Ethan.

    “Ain’t business grand,” she laughed. “So pretty soon Luthorcorp had all the city officials in their pocket and owned most of the property in town. They started putting up all these factories, saying they were going to provide new jobs and better lives. Nobody ever mentioned what the jobs were going to be like though.”

    “What do you mean?” She smirked and pointed to a large pipe sticking out of the wall nearby. The same thick, soupy water that were standing in was pouring out of it noisily. “Luthorcorp,” he said grimly, reading the name on the pipe.

    “Imagine working day in and day out right next to vats of this stuff,” she said, kicking her feet in the water. “Breathing it in when they process it, having it on your hands when you take your lunch break. And it’s not like it’s just down here and in the factories, there are bogs of this stuff to the north, you can smell it for miles around. It gets in the soil, rots crops out,” she wrinkled her nose up in disgust. “And it’s not like no one’s tried to do anything about it. They tried to strike a few years ago, get better conditions. Luthor just brought in scabs and had the protestors arrested. They never even found some of the guys in charge of organizing it.”

    Clark listened quietly, strangely enough, wanting to laugh. It was all too unbelievable. This was Smallville, it couldn’t be like this. It just couldn’t. But something in Chloe’s voice made him listen, the dull anger that became more pronounced as she went on. How could it go from such a warm place to this? What had happened here that hadn’t in his world?

    When she was finished, she brooded quietly for a minute. Clark let her, thinking over everything. Then he looked at her and gave her a little smile. She noticed it and stared back at him. “What, you think this is funny?” she snapped.

    “No,” he shook his head. “I just wanted to say I told you so.” She stared at him. “I told you, you’d be a great reporter. You missed your calling.” He shrugged and smiled shyly at her. She blinked and then burst out laughing. He did as well.

    Smiling, she looked at him, studying him for a moment. “You are different,” she said finally.

    “That’s sort of an understatement.”

    “No, you are. I don’t know how to explain it…” she trailed off. A sudden noise at the other end of the tunnel made him turn around quickly though. “Trouble?” she asked, getting ready to run again.

    “They’re still after us,” he told her quietly. She moaned a little, staring into the darkness. Clark focused his vision through the darkness behind them and concentrated for a moment. The blackness of the sewers fell away as he stared through the walls. He could see skeletons behind them, dim, white figures running in small groups. Most were still far off, but two of the soldiers were getting dangerously close.

    “Two of them are near the start of this tunnel,” he said quietly, pulling her down in the muck with him. The slimy water came up to her chin as she ducked down and he saw her choke back a gag. “Stay here,” he warned her quietly. She gave him a ‘do-you-think-I’m-an-idiot’ glare and nodded. Taking a deep breath, he dove under the water.

    Clark reflected briefly on how lucky he was that his eyes wouldn’t be hurt by whatever was floating around in that water. And the fact that without x-ray vision, he’d have never been able to see an inch in the murky water in the first place. He swam as quickly as he could down the tunnel without churning up the water behind him like a speedboat. The tunnel hit a T-junction at the end and it was there that he waited underwater, watching the pair of legs getting closer. The soldiers were advancing slowly, with guns drawn, he guessed from their stances. He let his head break the surface so he could see them more easily as he waited.

    They were ten feet from the branch of the junction now, then eight, then six. He waited tensely for them to clear the gap. The only sound was the gush of water from a pipe and the sounds of the soldiers’ wading through the stagnant muck. Then before he could move, there was a burst of static from the soldiers’ walkie-talkies that cut through the silence.

    “Target re-acquired!” a voice yelled through it. “Team 3! He’s right in front of you, Team 3!” The soldiers leapt back with startled shouts as Clark exploded up out of the water. He knocked one out cold against the stone wall with a brush of his arm and charged the other one. The unlucky soldier had time enough to get off a poorly aimed shot that sizzled upwards into the ceiling before Clark reached him. The shot tore open a steam pipe which started to hiss loudly. Grabbing the soldier’s armored vest, Clark lifted him up and slammed the top of his helmet into the ceiling. The soldier stiffened and then went limp.

    Clark checked their status quickly with his vision. The one slumped against the wall was unconscious and didn’t seem to be too badly off. The soldier he was still holding had a slight concussion, but nothing too serious, he guessed. Before he dropped him, he plucked the soldier’s walkie-talkie off his belt and listened in for a moment.

    “Team 3! Team 3, respond!” the cry came over it. “We’ve lost you over the sensor. Report your status. All teams converge on unit’s location. Team 6, head down two junctions and take a left, he should be there.”

    Depressing the call button, he tried to make his voice sound more threatening then it was. “Call them off if you know what’s good for them. I can’t promise to go easy on them if they keep at this.”

    “Target is there! Converge on location,” the reply came. Snarling, he almost threw it away when he thought better of it and stuffed it in his pocket. It would keep him posted on how close they were at least. He started to slog back to where he left Chloe when the walkie-talkie broke in again.

    “Target on the move southward.” They were tracking his every move, he realized. How? He stared upwards, through the stone ceiling and the street above it. A helicopter was circling the air above him, panning back and forth. That must be it, he thought. But how where they tracking him?

    Unconsciously, his ears picked up on the hiss of steam escaping from the broken pipe. “They lost me when the pipe blew,” he muttered. They must be using a heat sensor. Smiling, he started to jog back towards Chloe.

    He found her exactly where he had left her. “Are you okay?” she asked quickly, standing up. She touched his shoulder lightly and Clark was suddenly very conscious of her sopping wet shirt.

    “Yeah, fine,” he said, looking away quickly. She noticed where he’d been staring and laughed.

    “Sorry,” she said, pulling her shirt off of her skin, unselfconsciously. “But what do you expect me to do, stay crouched over in that muck? And besides,” she smiled and pointed calmly to his chest,” it’s not like you’re any better.” Clark glanced down and saw how tight his shirt was pressed against his abs and blushed, pulling it away quickly.

    “Forget about that,” he hissed through her laughter, “we’ve got bigger problems. They’ve got a helicopter up there tracking us by heat. It’s leading the rest of them right towards us.”

    “Can’t you just, fight them off or something?” she asked. “You know, make with the super strength.”

    “Wish I could. Those guns of theirs would make mincemeat of me in these close quarters,” he said, glancing at the tunnel walls. “But… I might be able to delay them.”

    “How?” she asked quickly.

    “Just start running for now. I’ll catch up with you in a minute. I think I can block their sensors.”

    “Clark, I’m not just…”

    “Just go, I’ll be right behind you,” he promised her. She held out for a moment, then nodded. Then, before he could stop her, she stepped towards him and kissed him on the cheek. He stared at her in surprise as she pulled back and made a gagging face.

    “Oh, gross,” she said and started to retch.

    “Not the response I was expecting,” he remarked.

    “I forgot you’re covered in this muck,” she told him. She made a face. “Not exactly minty fresh.” She spit once more and then smiled lamely at him. “Good luck,” she said before running down the tunnel.

    “Yeah… you too,” he said, watching her go. Then he shook himself out of his reverie and stared upwards. There were a number of pipes running around the ceiling, but it only took him a second to find the right ones. “Hope no one’s taking a shower now,” he muttered quickly.

    Delicately, he started to heat up the water pipes with his heat vision. He didn’t want them to start melting, but he wanted to warm them enough to throw off the sensors in the helicopters. When the pipes started to glow a dull red, he stopped and moved farther down the tunnel, repeating the process. Clark could feel the heat begin to build up slowly as he kept at it. Just as he thought, with no where for the heat to go, the tunnels were starting to turn into an oven. Luckily, he was unaffected by the heat, but he couldn’t say the same for the smell. Heating up the muck hadn’t done much to improve it’s smell, and the fumes coming off it were getting thicker.

    When he was satisfied, he pulled the walkie-talkie out of his pocket and listened for a moment. The panic and confusion he heard on the other end made him smile grimly. The helicopter was useless and the soldiers were turning back from the heat and gas. He turned around and started to jog towards the other end. Hopefully Chloe wouldn’t be too far ahead already, he thought.

    Something roughly the size of a baseball plopped into the water next to him. On pure instinct, he threw himself forwards as it detonated in a burst of green energy. The meteor radiation picked him up like a wave and slammed him into the sewer wall. Masonry tumbled down next to him as he lay there, gasping for breath. Before he could pick himself back up, more of the green blasts exploded by his head. Apparently, not all of the soldiers had turned back.

    Clark ducked down, still woozy from the radiation, but he still had enough of his vision left to make out a lone soldier charging him from down the tunnel, firing wildly. The soldier was wearing a full helmet equipped with a gas mask. Using all his strength, he leapt forwards and cleared the distance between them in an instant. Using his momentum like a bull, he slammed into the soldier’s chest. He heard her grunt as she went flying backwards, the gun falling into the water somewhere. It was a woman, he thought. In the uniform and helmet, he hadn’t noticed. She was lying down the tunnel on her back, groaning. He took a few steps forward so he could check on her when he saw her sit up and unholster another gun. It wasn’t one of the futuristic kinds she’d been sporting earlier, but it was still very large.

    A chunk of the ceiling blew out as she missed her first shot, but Clark wasn’t going to stick around for more. He ran down the tunnels away from her. She kept firing after him, one of her shots even tagging him in the shoulder. It made him pitch off balance for a moment, but that was all. As he left her far behind him, he was glad that she’d been alone. Whoever she was, she was dangerous.

    Picking up his speed, Clark found Chloe at the end of one of the tunnels. It looked like the sewers emptied in a large drainage ditch on the outside of town. Chloe stood there by the pipe opening, waiting for him. She was winded, sweaty, and covered in dirt, but she’d never looked better to him. When she saw him stumble out of the darkness, he could see her face light up and then turn red. Without a word, she threw herself at him and held onto him tightly for a moment. He hugged her back silently, then gently pried her off.

    “I heard shooting,” she said quickly, not quite willing to let go of him. “Are you alright?”

    “I’m stinking, but other than that,” he smiled at her. She sighed and shook her head.

    “We have to keep moving though,” he told her. “I don’t know if we really lost them yet. It’s better if we find somewhere safe to lie low for a while.”

    Chloe frowned, thinking. “I might know someone who could help with that,” she said slowly. “I don’t know if he can, but it’s worth a shot.”

    “Lead the way,” Clark told her.


    The Luthor Corps captain grunted as she slid the manhole cover off and started to climb out. A gun jammed itself down the sewer entrance though, right into her face.

    “Hold it right there!” a young voice ordered her. She rolled her eyes and then glanced at the gun, unconcerned.

    “You still have the safety on,” she remarked dryly at the soldier who held it.

    Stuttering, he jerked it back quickly as he recognized her. “Sorry, ma’am! My mistake.” He reached down to help her out, but she shouldered his hand out of the way and climbed out herself. She glanced up and down the street, frowning. She’d come out close to half a mile away from the Talon. Without the helicopter to guide her, she’d been wandering blind down there. It had only been luck that had led her to the alien. Seeing how things had gone though, she didn’t know whether to call it good luck or bad.

    Sitting down on the empty street, she groaned as she felt something in her chest twitch. All the soldiers were wearing body armor and helmets capable of stopping a bullet, but it couldn’t do much against the raw strength of the alien. Feeling under her armored vest, she winced as she probed her ribs. At least two were broken, maybe more.

    The soldier stood there dumbly, holding his rifle. “Are you alright, ma’am?” She ignored him for the moment, as she sighed and took off her helmet.

    She had short black hair that fell softly around her face, which had an almost exotic cast to it; with slightly almond shaped eyes and an eastern complexion. It was a face of startling beauty, but it was marred by the cold, tired look in her eyes. With her helmet off, someone might have been struck by how young she looked, which was of course because she was young, the youngest to hold her position. She’d trained all her life to get there, sacrificed so much, to get to where she was.

    Another soldier came running up the street, holding a phone out. She hissed in irritation and chucked her helmet away in frustration. It bounced and rattled down the street.

    “It’s…” he started to say when he got close, but she cut him off.

    “I know who it is.” She took the phone from him and sighed before speaking into it. “Mr. Luthor, Captain Lang here.” Explaining this wasn’t going to be easy.
    Last edited by Bulbus; 09-08-2003, 07:53 AM.

  • #2
    Chapter 7

    Lionel Luthor walked through the corridors of Luthorcorp Labs with a bemused expression on his face. Lex followed after his father quickly, always a few steps behind him. That his place was seemingly always a few steps behind him might have struck him as funny at any other time. Today, he was rather preoccupied, as they all were. Everyone who was permitted in this heavily guarded section of the labs seemed overly anxious. When they saw his father coming, they scattered, ducking down opposite corridors and into rooms. Even the Luthor Corps stationed as guards here, his father’s own personal army, seemed on edge. The only person who didn’t seem perturbed, Lex marveled, was his father, the one who stood the most to lose.

    “How are you dealing with the inquiry, Lex?” His father’s question startled him more by the sheer offhandedness of it than anything else. He recovered quickly and gave him a little sneer, trying to feel more comfortable than he was.

    “Officially, the Attorney General’s still breathing down our necks for human rights violations-“

    “Alleged,” his father chided him. “Always alleged. Even in private.”

    “Alleged violations,” he corrected himself. “Unofficially, he’s all but eating out of my hand. You should see how well I’ve got him trained.”

    “Ahh,” his father laughed, “I imagine. What was his offer at first?”

    “First, he wanted a generous kickback for himself and twenty percent of the stock in key Luthorcorp subsidiaries. He told me in return, he would make the charges disappear. I let him think he had played me, then I handed him the agreement papers with some educational materials included inside.”

    “Ahh… What sort?”

    “Written agreements between him and other Senate officials, transcripts of meetings... That sort of thing.”

    “That’s seems rather unnecessary. A man as crooked as that and you couldn’t produce a few photographs?”

    “Photographs would have embarrassed him, at the most forced him to resign. Those papers would have destroyed him. His own government would be forced to remove him permanently. I wanted him to know how much you don’t like being threatened.”

    “Such a dutiful son,” his father praised him. Lex sneered and looked away. “You always have my best interests in mind, don’t you?” Lionel went on, the force of his gaze making Lex look back at his father. His father held his eyes for a moment, then smiled and went on.

    “What was the final agreement then?” his father asked him idly.

    “Full support of the Attorney General’s office, government contracts that we could have gotten without him, and, though he doesn’t know it yet, he’s going to accept full responsibility for a leak in his office that will so damage the case filled against us that they’ll have no choice but to throw it out. He’ll resign in disgrace, and then I’ll just replace him with someone who doesn’t irritate me so much.”

    His father laughed fondly. “Never share power, Lex. Take a partner as a figurehead, yes, to use as a scapegoat, most definitely, but never share power fully. When you know that you can crush anyone you work with, that is contentment.” Lex smiled and nodded, wondering how much of that had been a warning aimed at him.

    Officially, Lex wielded almost as much power as Lionel did, acting as his executive assistant and heading up a number of projects for his father. In reality, though, he sometimes wondered how far he was allowed to go. He had never challenged his father on a major decision, not yet at least. What would happen if he did? How far would his father go in response? As far as it took, he smiled to himself. He knew his father well, very well indeed.

    The two of them were quite the pair, Lex practically the spitting image of his sire. His face was softer and not as craggy, that he had inherited from his mother along with her red hair, but he had the same lean build and characteristic intensity in his eyes. Both father and son had the ability to hold someone spellbound with a look, and possessed an almost raw magnetism. People gravitated to the Luthors, like planets orbiting a pair of stars. Was it all genetic, he wondered, gazing at his father. How much of him dictates who I am?

    “I hear the Shark’s are having a good year,” his father remarked, smiling softly to himself. “What kind of bonus do you think we should give them?”

    “I think there are more important things to worry about than that,” Lex snapped, no longer able to bear his father’s careless attitude.

    “There are millions of football fans that would disagree with you,” his father responded mockingly.

    “You left a retreat in Japan and flew halfway around the world to be here, father. Don’t tell me you aren’t worried about this.” They were at the end of the hallway, in front of the doors to the main labs. From here on, only a handful of people were ever admitted. Lex knew what was inside, but he had never been granted access before.

    Lionel stared at him and smiled. Reaching out, he placed his hand on a sensor and waited. The blue pad flashed red and then turned green. With a pneumatic sigh, the heavy doors unsealed and opened. Lex tore his gaze away from his father to look inside. The doors opened up into a narrow hallway, with another security panel at the other end. Lionel stepped inside and Lex hurried after him. He noted in passing, that the doors were six inches thick.

    His father walked to the security panel and punched in a code. Lex waited, glancing at the wall in front of them. If there was a seam in it, he couldn’t detect it. “Where are the doors?” he asked, trying to sound bored.

    In response, the panel beeped once and then started to rise up the wall. Lex looked at it sharply and then saw that the panel wasn’t moving, the entire wall was rising up. “Do you know that every time we raise this, it costs us close to ten thousand dollars?” his father asked speculatively. “Someone worked it out; averaged in the cost of fuel for the machinery above us, the cost of the wall, machinery; times it was operated per day… Incredible amount, don’t you think?” He shook his head and stepped inside. Lex followed after him, stepping over the small trench in the floor that the wall had risen from. The wall began to ponderously lower as soon as they stepped through. Unconsciously, he glanced up, but he couldn’t see the machinery that controlled it. He also noted that the wall was more than a foot thick and seemingly one solid slab of metal.

    “Thank God,” a nervous voice said at the other end of the lab. A tall, lanky black man hurried across the floor, moving around rows of monitors and computers. “I had you tracked down the minute this came through. It’s incredible. A second contact. It’s just…”

    “Yes, incredible, I know,” Lionel told him. He took the doctor’s hand, steadying him. Lex glanced around the room curiously, keeping one eye on his father. The lab was set up like a lecture hall, sloping down in rows towards a huge set of clear plastic windows. Computers and monitoring equipment filled each of the rows, it was easy to imagine close to a hundred scientists working here simultaneously, though Lex knew for a fact that only five people had access to this room; his father, Dr. Hamilton, his two assistants, and the head of security for Luthorcorp.

    Dr. Hamilton glanced at Lex and then looked at Lionel quickly. “It’s alright,” his father told him. “Lex has been briefed about this before, but hasn’t had the full tour yet.”

    “What about the general? Are we bringing him on this too?”

    “I think General Lane can sit this one out for now,” Lionel said quietly. “He’s a small minded man. Too much information might unsettle him.”

    “I take it I’m ready for the big picture then?” Lex asked quietly, glancing around.

    “You’ve been ready for some time now,” his father corrected him. “Doctor, why don’t you bring my son up to date on what’s happened?”

    “I’ve read the files, father,” Lex protested, eager to get on with the meeting. “That’s not necessary.”

    “It’s alright,” Hamilton said, barely containing his glee. “I think we’re all starting from scratch today. God, this is like fourteen years ago. So much to learn.”

    “Not quite like fourteen years ago,” a voice said dryly from the bottom of the lab. A young girl stepped forwards, dressed in the black and gray Lex Corps fatigues, though they were heavily stained. Her face was smudged and a little bruised, but it couldn’t disguise her natural beauty. Only her eyes looked out of place, dead, cold things that didn’t seem to belong to one so young. She was only eighteen.

    “Right as always, Lana,” Lionel told the young girl. She nodded stiffly at him, not bothering to acknowledge anyone else. Lex was almost surprised that her heels didn’t come clicking together in salute.

    He hadn’t agreed with his father on appointing this girl as the head of his security force, but he hadn’t opposed it. Her age was certainly a factor in his disapproval, since she was barely eighteen and commanding men twice her age. She was skilled yes, almost a prodigy when it came to strategy and combat. Of course, that came as no surprise when Lionel himself has sponsored her training for the last ten years. Lex suspected that was why he had placed her here, as a personal assurance against espionage. The girl was practically a zealot where his father’s interests were concerned. His father trusted her implicitly, much more than his own flesh and blood, Lex noted sardonically. Jealousy might have also been a factor in his disapproval, he admitted, but it was also something more.

    Sometimes he feared that Lana’s personal feelings would get in the way of her charge. She was committed to Lionel and Luthorcorp, he knew that, but he also knew what kind of hate and will it takes to drive someone like that. He knew that very well. Sometimes, he wondered if she’d planned on all this, just so she could get close to what had hurt her so badly in the past.

    “I’m sorry sir,” she said stiffly. “We made contact with the second creature, but we couldn’t contain it.”

    “It’s all right,” he waved her apology away. “You managed to control the situation well. You pursued the creature and we’ve gotten a good estimate on his abilities. All in all, I think that’s a good day’s work,” he remarked.

    “She opened fire in a public street, compromised the secrecy of our meteor based weaponry, damaged city property, and managed to kill no less than ten people while doing so,” Lex said. “Tell me father, what qualifies that as a ‘good day’?”

    Lana shot him a look that he would have liked to frame, but his father brushed the question off. “Dr. Hamilton? What have we learned about the second creature so far?”

    “Not much, sir,” he said, heading over to a pair of monitors. His father followed him over as Lana turned back to the glass. Lex strolled over to stand beside her. He noted with a bit of disgust, that she hadn’t gotten to change her uniform yet. He forgot the smell though as he glanced down through the glass.

    The lab glass formed part of a steepled roof to a large room below. The walls were pristine white, the kind that you only found in hospitals and psychiatric wards. At the bottom of the floor was a kind of rough habitat. There was a torn and faded blanket in the corner and a low slung toilet at the far wall. Built into the paneling of another wall was a black computer screen, which occasionally flashed with pictures of landscapes and famous paintings. Lex had read the files on how it was also a crude, touch-based computer system for the subject, which could respond with simple games and passages from selected novels. All of this was for the pleasure of their “guest”, who had literally dropped out of the sky over a decade ago.

    The alien was currently lying prone on the floor, his face turned away from them. He was dressed in a white smock and pants, his arms and legs encircled by the manacles that his father’s scientists had worked so hard on designing. In an emergency, the room’s floor would effectively become a giant magnet, with the manacles designed to emit the opposite, attracting polarity. They had rated one of the manacles sufficient to hold several hundred tons of pressure. Based on the data from today, Lex wondered if it was enough.

    “I read your report,” he said quietly to Lana. She ignored him and continued to study the creature. “Not a bad piece of work for a grunt. I’m sure you had a lot of chances to study him while he was eluding your team.”

    “I would’ve liked to see you do any better,” she hissed at him.

    “Anyone could’ve done better. You get an alert that someone’s walking around town who just happens to bear a close resemblance to our subject and you rush into a crowded street, guns blazing. What if it’d been a coincidence? You could have ruined us all.” She didn’t respond to that. He leaned in close to her ear.

    “It must eat you alive that there’s another one walking free. Especially when he looks so much like our’s does. When you think about it, it’s almost like he’s actually free,” Lex nodded down towards the glass. “I guess I can see why you’d go after him. For as much good as it did.”

    Finally, she turned towards him, her hand slipping down to the gun holstered at her side. “Are you questioning my abilities?”

    “Just your methods,” he told her.

    “Well the next time you do, I want you to remember something, Lex,” she said, her hand resting on the butt of the gun. “For as much good as it did, he ran from me.” He held her stare for a moment, and then sneered and looked away.

    “Oh, children?” Lionel called to them. “If you could turn your attention to the good doctor for a moment, he’ll kindly tell us what we’ve determined so far.” Lex and Lana glanced at each other and then turned back to the doctor.

    “Yes, well, as I said,” Hamilton started, “it’s not much. We have the visual data collected during the skirmish, but not a lot of DNA samples to take back. There was a skin scraping on some of the concrete, but we believe that’s human in origin.”

    “The girl,” Lex supplied. “I’ll have her identity in a few hours. We’re still analyzing the tapes.”

    “Good. Well, aside from that,” Hamilton went on, “there isn’t much to go off of. We know it’s similar in appearance to the first subject. Height, facial features are almost a complete match.”

    “What do you think of that, doctor?” Lionel asked. “Coincidence?”

    “Maybe; maybe not. Their species could just all physically look alike and rely on other means of distinguishing the other,” he shrugged. “Or, pride in the human race aside, we might not even be advanced enough to determine their differences. It could be like an ant saying that all humans look alike.”

    “Perhaps,” his father said. He didn’t sound very certain however.

    “How about our other guest?” Lex asked quietly. “Did she have any response to this?” He noted that Lana’s head suddenly jerked up and Hamilton’s expression grew guarded. His father hardly blinked, simply stood there, thinking.

    “I haven’t put the question to her yet,” Lionel said finally.

    “There was some unusual activity…” Hamilton started to say when Lionel overrode him.

    “What else do we know?” he demanded firmly.

    “Uh… the subject, the new one,” Hamilton corrected himself, “is a great deal stronger than the first. Whether that’s based on a longer exposure to the sun or some other reason, we can’t determine yet.”

    “The sun?” Lex asked.

    “They apparently absorb energy from the sun, soak it up like a solar battery. That’s how they can do everything they can. We try and limit his exposure to the sun now,” he admitted quietly, looking a little pale. Lex looked down at the alien again, not a little impressed.

    “The guns barely affected him,” Lana added. “And it shook off a burst grenade in a few seconds. A charge that size would have put the other one out for hours.”

    “We’ll have to boost the charges on the guns then,” he said. “Double the output radiation.”

    “Why stop at doubling it?” Lex asked snidely. “I mean, it’s already powerful enough to burn through a human being, why stop there? Why don’t we turn all our soldiers into a walking reactor? How does that strike everyone?”

    “And what would you suggest we do, Lex?” his father asked him. “Containing this creature is our first priority now.”

    “Yes, it is,” he agreed. He cast a sidelong glance at Lana. “At least now it is.”

    “Care to explain that,” she asked him, acidly.

    “The first creature’s arrival was a fluke. Probably an accident at that. After all, if an alien species wants to make contact with us, why send a lone child to do it?” he asked them. “Most likely, this second creature was sent to retrieve the other, as part of some larger delegation.”

    “Are you saying there could be more of them here?” Hamilton asked, worried.

    “If there’s one, there’s probably another,” Lex remarked. “We’ve learned that today at least. And if there’s two… who knows how many are out there? With an unknown number of them, this isn’t the time to make any more mistakes.”

    “Mistakes!?” Lana practically spit out. She stopped and tried to get herself under control.

    “Yes, mistakes. Yours,” he said, keeping her off balance. He needed her angry for this to work. If she was angry, she’d get careless and make a mistake. He glanced at his father quickly, but he was impossible to gauge.

    “There creatures could’ve come here peacefully,” he went on. “They might not have even known that the first alien was here at all. We should have approached them cautiously and determined their intentions, not opened fire immediately.” Lana glowered at him.

    “It’s a little late for that,” she snapped at him.

    “Of course it is,” he went on smoothly. “Now we have to respond with full force. You showed the second one we’re hostile and then you let him get away. If he’s in contact with any others, they’ll know as well. It’s not going to take them very long to realize that if we found them so quickly we must have already known they were out there”

    “So what are you suggesting we do about it?”

    Got you, Lex thought triumphantly. “First, we have to contain the second creature. We have to capture it now, or kill it.”

    “Kill… but a specimen like that…” Hamilton protested. Lionel raised his hand, cutting him off.

    “You already have one doctor, don’t be greedy. Lex, go on,” he said.

    “Secondly, we have to strengthen security around the first,” he said, nodding back towards the glass wall. “If we lose him, we lose everything this company is built on. The technology, the science, everything. We can’t let that happen. And just to be certain that no more mistakes are made, I’d like to take charge of all this.”

    “What? You?!” Lana almost exploded. He ignored her and focused on his father. Lionel stood there, his arms folded, a small smile playing about his face.

    “Out of the two of us, I seem to be the only one with a clear grasp of the situation,” Lex told Lana without taking his eyes off his father. “You’ve already put us at risk once with your personal feelings. I wouldn’t want them to impair your judgment again,” he told her coolly.

    “Sir,” she pleaded with Lionel. “You can’t let him do this. I can recapture him. I can!”

    “I know you can, dear,” he told her genially. He hesitated and then went on, “But in this case, I think Lex may be right. Perhaps a more level head is required for this.”

    “But sir,” she said, utterly devastated. It was so easy to manipulate her, Lex thought. She really was just a child after all.

    “Now, Lana,” Lionel told her gently. He touched her chin and lifted her head up. “I still have an important job for you here. After all, there are things more important than our visitor that need protecting.” She stared at him for a moment and then nodded fiercely.

    “I won’t let you down, sir,” she swore. He smiled and touched her cheek fondly.

    “I don’t doubt it.” He looked over at Lex and smiled. “I have the utmost faith in both of you. You are my partners in this. Always remember that.” Lana gazed at him in adoration, but Lex could only smile back uneasily. How much does he really trust me, he wondered again. How much, and how far?

    Chapter 8

    They ran for about an hour, slogging through the ditch and then into the cover of the tall corn fields around town. They’d heard a few helicopters roar over their heads, but with Clark’s vision giving them ample warning, they’d stayed out of sight so far. Clark was exhausted from the fight, and the constant fear of being discovered. Chloe looked even worse off, stumbling and gasping for breath with every step. She didn’t complain though, and he was forced to revise his opinion of her. She was clearly a lot tougher than he’d thought, a lot like the Chloe he knew from his home.

    She saw him looking and gave him a weak smile. That was another problem, he thought. It was too easy to forget that he didn’t know this girl, no matter how she resembled his Chloe. But they were so alike, he argued with himself. Maybe the differences weren’t that deep in people after all. Maybe even in this world, Chloe was Chloe.

    “I think we can rest here,” he said finally when they came into a small clearing. He glanced upwards, scanning the treetops. “We can’t stay long, but we should probably wait until dark before we go out again. There’s enough cover so that they won’t be able to spot us unless they stop right overhead.”

    “Thank God,” she sighed, sinking to her knees. Groaning, she rubbed her calves and winced. “I haven’t run that hard since, well, I’d say gym class, but I didn’t even do it then.”

    “You kept up pretty good,” he told her, leaning against a tree.

    “Thanks.” She stared at him speculatively. “Especially for someone without superpowers,” she remarked.

    “They’re not all they’re cracked up to be,” he told her seriously. He sat down on the ground and stared upwards, thinking.

    She laughed. “Right, I’m sure. The whole part about being stronger and faster than everyone else must be real drag.” She smiled at him knowingly. “Can you tell me you don’t get off on all that?”

    “Sure, that part’s fun,” he admitted, “but there’s a lot more that goes with it. I’m not just stronger than everyone else, I’m a lot stronger. Like what happens if I get mad, or get in a fight with someone? Heck, I don’t even have to be mad to really hurt someone; I could just not be paying attention and shake their hand too hard.” He looked at her sadly. “I couldn’t even play sports as a kid because I might wind up crippling someone by accident.”

    “That does kind of suck,” she nodded, “but what about everything else? I mean, can you imagine what I would do if I those powers?”

    She looked so excited, he thought. Shaking his head, he laughed a little. “No, what would you do?” he asked, playing along.

    Chloe floundered for a moment and then sat up, excited. “Well for starters I’ve got a few ex-boyfriends I wouldn’t mind visiting. Then some teachers, and this old social worker of mine, who was just so annoying with her little BMW that was like, her pride and joy. I think I’d take it apart piece by piece and leave it out on her lawn so it’d be the first thing she saw when she went outside.” She smiled, clearly picturing it. Then she shrugged and leaned back again.

    “Then? I don’t know,” she remarked. “I’d probably show my uncle what for. Show him I’m not worthless, you know?”

    “Does he think that?” Clark asked.

    “He’s always down on me,” she replied. “Always expects me to be so much better, huh? Like his daughter, as if he’d know. He didn’t even bring his family to live with him here; he sees them like twice a year. The rest of the time he’s stuck with me.” She sighed loudly and lay down on the ground, staring up at the sky. Then she sat up suddenly and pulled a lump of paper out of her jacket. Peeling a soggy bill off of the stack of bills, she sighed. “Easy come, easy go,” she muttered, tossing the ruined lump of money away. Then she lay back again and was silent. Clark chose not to comment about it.

    “You know,” she said after a minute, “this has got to be the strangest day of my life. Not just ‘so far’, but probably ‘it’, the strangest day ever.”

    “Oh?” he asked, looking up at the sky as well.

    “Well, I’m sitting here with a guy who’s an alien, and if that wasn’t enough, he’s from a parallel world or something, and together we just got away from a bunch of hyped up commandos by slogging through practically all the industrial waste in town,” she said in a rush. She paused and considered it. “That last part wasn’t so fun though. I could’ve done without that.”

    “I’ll say. I’m the one with the super senses, remember?” he told her dryly.

    Chloe laughed wearily and was silent for a while. Clark though she’d fallen asleep, when she murmured suddenly, “I can’t do it.”

    “What?” he asked her.

    “Sleep. I just can’t do it. It’s like, what if this is just some weird dream I’m having. What if I go to sleep and I wake up in my own bed?”

    “I can pinch you,” he offered.

    “I don’t think I want the guy who can punch through concrete to pinch me,” she shook her head. Clark smiled and then looked away. He got up and slowly walked around the clearing, staring about aimlessly. She noticed the worried look on his face. “Clark, what is it?”

    “Just thinking about what you said. About this being a dream. How do you think I feel?” he asked her, turning around. “I went to school this morning with a Chloe Sullivan whose hair was about a foot shorter and spent all her time worrying about laying out the next issue of the school paper. And then suddenly I’m here, standing in front of the same girl who’s now only interested in grand theft auto.”

    “Thanks,” she muttered.

    “Sorry,” he said, realizing what he’d said. “It’s just… this would all be easier for me if it was a dream. As strange as it’s been for you, at least you’re home. You’ve always known things to be this way.” He reached into his jacket and brought out the meteor rock he’d picked up earlier. Holding it up, he stared at it intently. It lay dully in his hand, not affecting him in the slightest. “For me,” he told her, “nothing’s the same here.”

    Clark sighed and then looked up at her. Tossing the rock up and catching it, he asked her, “Do you know what this is?”

    “Sure, it’s a meteor rock,” she shrugged. “They’re everywhere.”

    “Have you ever heard of them doing things to anyone? Changing them?” he explained.

    Chloe frowned and held out her hand. He tossed her the stone and she caught it smoothly. Turning it over, she shrugged, thinking back. “I’m not sure, maybe. I think I might’ve heard something once, but that was a while ago. I never really paid attention to that kind of stuff though. I know what everyone else knows. The rocks came down in the meteor shower and that’s it. Luthorcorp said they were going to collect them all for some reason, but I guess they scrapped that ‘cause there’s still so many of them lying around. Other than that, they’re dull, not too pretty, and you can’t sell them for anything. If there’s anything special about them, you’d have to ask somebody else, sci-fi stuff was never that interesting to me.”

    He laughed briefly and backed up, looking at the sky. The sun was just starting to sink across the horizon. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

    “You… or the you that I know, loves that stuff,” he told her. “She did a report once in front of the class about how the X-Files was actually a documentary and that the government was passing information about alien abductions through the commercials that went with it.”

    Chloe stared at him and then wrinkled up her face, thinking intently. “Well that’s weird. I don’t know whether to laugh or feel ashamed about that,” she remarked. “Anyway, I bet you’re like her ideal guy; tall, dark, and not from this planet.” Then she hesitated, “Not that that’s my ideal guy, you know…, just hers. Even though I guess she’s me… I’m not explaining this right,” she commented.

    “She doesn’t actually know,” he admitted.

    Chloe turned around and gave him a strange look. “You haven’t told her? But you told me, and we just met today.”

    “I haven’t had to reveal my powers in front of her yet,” he said. “As long as she doesn’t have to know…”

    “Right, you’d probably want to keep the whole E.T. vibe to yourself. I get it.” She jumped off her rock and started to pace around. “How much longer do we have to wait?” she asked impatiently.

    “Another hour and it should be dark enough to sneak out.”

    Her face fell and she went back to her rock. Leaning against it, she waited, sighing. “So… Tell me more about myself,” she said brightly. “Boyfriend? Car? What?”

    He winced. “I don’t know if I should. Don’t they say it’s not wise to know too much about things like that?”

    “That’s knowing about your future, Clark,” she remarked dryly. “It doesn’t apply for parallel worlds.”

    “It’s the same concept,” he argued.

    “Fine, we won’t talk about me.” She shrugged and then smiled wickedly. “We can just go back to talking about you then.” She leaned across her rock, staring at him intently. “So tell me,” she said, tilting her head, “any other differences I should know about?”

    “Uh?” he stuttered, confused.

    “I mean, from what I can see you look normal enough, but are you like that all over?” she asked smiling.

    “So what do you want to know about yourself again?” he asked quickly. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

    “The usual, family, friends, cute boyfriend, job, cute boyfriend, life in general. So tell me all about myself.”

    Why is my life like this, Lana wondered. She’d thought that so many times over so many years that she’d stopped even registering the question. It was just a refrain in her head, like a bit of a song that looped in the background. It had gone on for so long that she’d stopped even trying to find an answer.

    She stalked through the halls of the lab, inwardly fuming. How dare he! The alien was her assignment, how dare he just swoop in and take it! Lex, that waste of flesh and blood that Lionel doted on. How could he take all this away from her? How?

    Maybe she could still convince Lionel to change his mind. There was still time. She checked her watch quickly and realized where he’d be at this hour. Backtracking, she walked quickly through the halls. Members of the security team saluted as she passed them, but she barely noticed, she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts.

    Maybe she had overreacted a little, she allowed, when she saw the alien. She’d opened fire in a crowd, but that had been necessary. It had all been necessary. The alien had brought nothing but pain and death into everyone’s life and when she’d seen the second one, standing there, the spitting image of the first, something had snapped in her. But people had died, she reminded herself. She’d given the order and people had died, and they had nothing to show for it. It had been necessary, she repeated. Everything was always necessary.

    Suddenly she felt so tired. It came over her like a wave, sweeping away her her anger and frustration and leaving behind only an empty ache. “Just tired,” she muttered to herself. She should have rested more after the battle. Three cracked ribs wasn’t something you could just shake off. Digging into her side pockets, she pulled out a tiny vial and shook three pills out of it. She stared at them for a moment, and then popped them in her mouth and dry swallowed them. It was so hard sometimes, the training, the fighting, the wear of the responsibility and duty, so much.

    “Still things to do,” she told herself, clenching her eyes shut. “Still things to do.”

    “Lang,” a strident voice called out. She opened her eyes wearily and turned around. A robust looking, middle-aged man in a crisp, army uniform was approaching her. Behind him, six armed soldiers marched behind him.

    “Can’t go anywhere without a parade, can he?” she muttered under her breath.

    “Lang, what’s this I’ve been hearing all morning?” he demanded angrily as he came closer. She couldn’t help but notice how his uniform was freshly starched and his boots gleamed, while her own Luthorcorp uniform was still badly stained and sticky from the morning’s battle. She hadn’t even had time to change out of it yet. “Lionel’s been shutting me out and I can’t get a straight word out of anyone here,” he rasped at her.

    “General Lane,” she sighed, “thank you for your concern, but we’re perfectly capable of handling things on our own.”

    “Are you really going to hand me that corporate ********?” he asked her, leaning in close. She closed her eyes again briefly as he went on. “Where the hell is Lionel hiding himself? You people have been stonewalling me all day.”

    “Mr. Luthor has been in meetings all day and-“ she said, starting to walk away, but he kept up with her.

    “People being shot in the street? Gutting a theater? A full, goddamn search in progress through most of town? Any of these pop up in the meetings?”

    “We’re handling this, General,” she stated again.

    “How about a goddamn head’s up next time?” he yelled at her.

    “That wasn’t my call,” she replied as calmly as she could. “Besides, it wasn’t your troops that were involved, and it was a very tense time for everyone here. If you were kept out of the loop, I’m sure it was an… oversight.”

    “I’m sure it was. Look, I know the government gives you and your boss a lot of leeway with your contracts and running your own private security force,” he remarked, glancing at her. “We stay out of a lot of what goes on here, but in case you’ve forgotten we’re still in charge here. You, and your boss, you both answer to us in the end.”

    “Is that the official government stance, General?” Lex spoke up from behind them. They all turned suddenly to find him standing there, watching them quietly.

    “Lex,” General Lane said, glaring at him. “At least there’s one Luthor who isn’t afraid to show his face.”

    “I’d be careful what you say about my employer,” Lana warned him swiftly.

    “I wouldn’t be too worried about that, Lana,” Lex smiled at her. “My father’s been called a lot of things in his life, most of them by me, and he’s still here. As long as no one goes carrying tales, I’m sure the General won’t need to apologize for it.” Lana stared at him quietly. What was Lex up to now? He didn’t stand anything to gain by helping her.

    “Like hell I will,” Lane swore. “If anyone owes someone an apology it’s Lionel. What the hell has been going on here today, Lex? A shoot out in town, a search, what’s happening and why wasn’t I informed?”

    “You and your men aren’t here to investigate Luthorcorp,” he remarked.

    “My men are here as a show of good faith from the United States Military,” the general raged. “They are here to help guard your facilities.”

    “Your men are here to essentially guard their own bunks,” Lex smiled. “We protect our own here.” He nodded at Lana, surprising her for a moment. “We’re grateful for the assistance of course, but it’s by no means required.”

    General Lane bristled as the skin on his neck turned red. “For the last time, where is Lionel?” he rasped at Lex.

    “I was just on my way to see him now,” Lana spoke up. “But I’m afraid he’s in a restricted area. I can carry him a message if you want.”

    He stared at her for a moment, silently fuming. She waited patiently as Lex stood there smiling casually at her side. Finally, the General shook his head roughly. “No,” he said in a thick voice, “I can wait to see him later. Tell him I need to speak with him though.” She nodded and he turned quickly, marching through his escorts.

    “Oh, General,” Lex spoke up suddenly. “I was wondering how your niece was doing.” Lana glanced at him strangely as the General turned around to give an almost identical look.

    “Fine,” he said, put off. “She’s just fine.”

    Lex smiled and nodded genially. “That’s good to hear.” General Lane stared at him for a moment and then continued back down the hall. His escort turned and accompanied him.

    Lana waited until the last of his escort had turned the corner before she turned to Lex. “That was unlike you,” she told him.

    He shrugged. “There’re enough people muddying the water right now, we don’t need any outside interference. We don’t have time to baby-sit the General anymore.”

    “What was that bit about his niece? I didn’t even know he had family.”

    “He had a brother who used to work for Luthorcorp; died in an accident a few years ago, leaving behind a daughter. While he’s stationed in Smallville, the General’s been looking after her, while his own family is still back east.”

    “What does that have to do with anything?”

    “You know how we were looking to identify the girl in the attack earlier?” he asked her, smiling.

    She stared at him. “You’re joking! His niece?”

    He smiled and nodded. “Doesn’t that make things more interesting?” he muttered. “I’m not sure he even knows she’s gone missing yet.”

    “What’ll we do when he does find out?” she asked him. “He’s going to be impossible to deal with then.”

    “Let my father deal with that. Lane is right about one thing, he does represent the U.S. army in this, he’ll have to be handled carefully.” He glanced at her quickly and dropped his voice even lower. “Speaking of my father, you wouldn’t happen to know where he’s disappeared to now, would you?”

    She smiled, glad to be privy to at least one thing Lex wasn’t. “Just like I told the General,” she smiled. “He’s in a restricted area.” She waved her arm down a long stretch of hallway that ended in another set of security doors. The words, ‘Lab 2’, were stenciled on them in bold letters. Lex frowned as he stared at the entrance, making her smile.

    “I didn’t know you had access,” he said quietly. “I thought only my father and Hamilton were allowed-“

    “Didn’t you hear?” she asked, enjoying throwing it back in his teeth. “Since you took over the search, your father’s promoted me to guarding her.”

    “Did he?” he gritted through this teeth.

    “Were you planning on snapping that up too?” she smiled at him. “He’ll never trust you with her. He knows what you’d do with her power.”

    “But he trusts you.” He smirked and shook his head.

    Lana glared at him angrily. “What’s that mean?”

    “I don’t know which one of you is more misguided about the other. My father ordered you to bring the creature in alive today, didn’t he? But you were shooting to kill. Was that part of his plan?” She looked away quickly, gritting her teeth. “And you think my father really values you,” he went on. “I hate to disappoint you, but to him, everyone’s just a tool, a weapon to be used. You, me, the General, the alien, and even what’s inside those doors,” he nodded towards the lab. “We’re all just little pawns in his eyes, Lana.”

    “Let me give you a little bit of advice, Lana. Be careful of how far you go. If he has to sacrifice you to keep the alien, he will. And for her,” he nodded towards the lab, “he’d probably throw us both to the lions. Just something to think about.”

    He turned and strolled down the hallway, his hands stuck in his pockets. She stared after him, her thoughts tumbling over each other in confusion. Finally, she tore her gaze away from him and glanced at the lab doors nervously. How much would Lionel sacrifice for what was inside, she asked herself nervously.

    “He trusts me with this,” she told herself quietly. “He trusts me.” Somehow, it didn’t seem to make her feel any easier.

    Chapter 9

    “Uh,” Chloe moaned again. “I’m tired of walking. Can’t you carry me and just run there super fast or something? You said you could do that.”

    Clark looked back at her and smiled. “Sure, except I don’t know where I’m going,” he pointed out. “It’s your friend we’re after, remember?”

    “So, I can give you directions.” She knelt down and rubbed her calf muscles. “I’m really tired now.”

    “Not a good idea to run through the woods that fast. I mean, I’d survive if I trip or run into a tree, but you probably wouldn’t.” He glanced over at a dead looking tree branch. It was almost three inches thick. With one hand, he reached out and snapped it off, leaving the exposed, jagged end sticking out. “Catch my drift?” he asked her. She stared at the inch long splinters sticking out from the branch and nodded. “We can take a break though,” he told her. She sighed gratefully and flopped down on the ground. He smiled at her and then walked over to the edge of the forest, looking out into the fields.

    They had been walking since it had gotten dark hours ago. Chloe had said that a friend of hers could help them stay hidden, but unfortunately he lived on the other side of town. With Luthorcorp soldiers after them, it wasn’t like they could just cut through the town, so they were forced to take the long way around, past the farms and fields on the outskirts. Staying just inside the forest gave them cover from the air, in case any of the Luthercorp helicopters passed over head. It had been a while though, since they’d seen any sign of their pursuers.

    “Sorry if I’m slowing you down,” Chloe said, sitting up. He looked back at her and shook his head.

    “Don’t worry about it. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me, I got you into this.”

    “Heh, I guess you should be. If you’d just kept me out of it, you’d be here alone right now and I’d be dog food,” she remarked. “Remember? Besides, it’s not like you knew what would happen.”

    “Still,” he said, “I don’t… I didn’t mean for any of this. Soldiers after us, getting shot at.” He stopped, looking troubled. “People are dead because of me. Just because I was near them, they were… They barely gave them a warning.” Chloe looked down and rubbed her ankle absently. “I didn’t mean to even be here,” he went on. “I was just walking home and then... I don’t know why, or how any of this…,” he trailed off. “I just wish I was home,” he said dejectedly.

    Chloe shifted her eyes away awkwardly and picked a bit of grass out of the ground. “Well, there’s not much I can do about that,” she admitted quietly. “I mean, if you need someone to tell you about what bands are good, how to hotwire a car, or pick a lock, then I’m your girl. Aliens and parallel worlds, not so much. Best I can do is get you somewhere safe and maybe help you on the way.” She smiled at him and he had to smile back.

    “And for what it’s worth: there’s one person who’s glad you’re here,” she told him. “You took on the Luthorcorps and won. No one’s ever done that. Keep it up; you’ll be our very own superhero.”

    He snorted and shook his head. “You know what that makes you then?” he asked her.

    She narrowed her eyes and gave him a dirty look. “If you say ‘sidekick’, I’m going to have to hate you.” He smiled at her. “But if you decided to carry me for the rest of the way though,” she remarked, “I might agree to be the comic relief. Or devoted fan.”

    “Ready to move on yet?” he asked her. She groaned and sat up noisily.

    “Sure, whatever. What’s a few more miles anyways?”

    They traveled slowly through the woods. With his sharper vision, Clark was able to keep her from tripping over any roots and low lying branches, so they made good time. He was even able to create a path for her through some of the rougher undergrowth. Chloe for her part, complained all the while, but she kept up with him, no easy task, he realized. He didn’t get tired or scratched up from the bushes and tiny branches that grasped at them from the sides of the path. When the temperature started to drop, he passed her back his coat, not needing the extra warmth himself. She smiled gratefully at him and kept close behind him.

    After a half hour more, suddenly she gave a cry and almost collapsed on the path. He rushed back to her and knelt down beside her.

    “What is it?” he asked.

    She was curled up, holding onto her left calf tightly. “****ing leg,” she hissed. “It just tightened up and I can’t move it.” Ignoring the string of curses she was muttering under her breath, he concentrated his vision on her leg for a moment.

    “Nothing’s broken,” he said quietly, then nodded as he pulled his vision back, seeing only the muscles and tissues in her leg. “Cramp,” he announced. “No wonder, walking for hours in the cold air. Painful, but not too serious.”

    “No kidding,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

    “Now there’s my Chloe,” he remarked dryly. She arched an eyebrow at him and he looked down at her leg quickly. He started to massage her leg gently. She winced a little as he tried to loosen the cramp out. After a while, he could feel her muscles start to relax and unknot. “How’s that feel?” he asked her.

    “Not bad,” she smiled at him wickedly. “If say, ‘higher’, what happens then?”

    He blinked and then felt himself go red. She laughed and started to climb to her feet, but stopped her. “No, I think you should rest for a bit,” he said, quickly. He turned around and bent over. “Well, come on. Looks like you’re getting a ride after all.” He was glad it was too dark for her to see how red his face and ears were.

    “Knew you’d see it my way,” she told him and hobbled over to him. She climbed onto his back, and he straightened up, carrying her piggy-back. “Um,” she said slowly, “I’m not going to be too heavy, am I?”

    “Hey, super strength, remember? Uh… not that I would need it or anything,” he recovered quickly.

    “Swift move there,” she muttered into his ear. Grunting, he adjusted his grip on her legs and started down the path. Chloe was small enough so that she could rest her head on his shoulders and it wouldn’t be that uncomfortable. Being uncomfortable like this wasn’t the problem, he thought slowly. Quite the opposite in fact.

    Warmth was a concept Clark had always had trouble with. He could easily withstand temperatures that might have scalded the flesh from anyone else, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t feel them. He could tell when something was hot, or cold, but it was the degrees that were harder to define. To him there was little difference between room temperature and sticking his hand in a fire. If he really concentrated, he could tell one was hotter than the other, but the difference was truly slight to him. Carrying Chloe through the forest, feeling her pressed against his back; gave him a new insight into what warmth really meant.

    It might have just been an overactive imagination, or his powers picking up the slight vibrations, but he could have sworn he felt her heart beating against his back. What he knew he could feel was her breath against his neck and her arms draped around his shoulders. He carried her through the forest, staying at a steady jog and trying not to jostle her too badly. When they came to a rather steep ravine, she tightened her arms across his chest as he slid down the one side. It wasn’t until they had climbed out the other side that she loosened them again. She had a strong grip, he thought to himself.

    “Like at the dance,” he said quietly, not realize it had slipped out.

    “What dance?” she asked him.

    “Uh, nothing. Forget I said anything.” She shrugged and put her head down on his shoulder. This might not have been such a good idea, he thought to himself. I keep forgetting that even though she looks like Chloe, she’s not my Chloe. Heck, I don’t even know how I feel about my Chloe. I shouldn’t be leading her on like this.

    You’re just carrying her, he argued with himself. What’s so bad about that? And who’s leading who on here? You just met the girl today; you’re just friends, that’s all.

    “It’s not that easy,” he muttered.

    “Hmm?” she said. She sounded just on the verge of falling asleep.

    “Hey, are you awake? You’re supposed to be leading me here,” he reminded her, shrugging his shoulders gently to wake her. “I don’t even know where we are.”

    “Thought you were supposed to be from around here,” she muttered and yawned. “Well, via Jupiter or something.”

    “Very funny. Where I come from, the forest doesn’t start until about three more miles back. It’s all farmland and houses.” He paused for a moment. “A lot of what I remember is different now.”

    “Then let me down and I’ll see where we are. Shouldn’t be too much farther.” He knelt slightly and she slid off him. Keeping on her good leg, she flexed her other gently and then tried standing on it. When she was comfortable doing that she hobbled slightly over to the forest’s edge and peered out across the fields. Clark watched her quietly, staying back in the shadows.

    “What did you see?” he asked when she finally hobbled back. Chloe steadied herself and zipped up the coat he had lent her.

    “We’re about a half a mile from his place. We just need to cross over this field and a road and we should be there.”

    He nodded and stood up quickly. “Do you still need…” he started to ask, but she shook her head.

    “I can make it. Besides, if anyone passes us, it’ll look more suspicious if you’re carrying me.”

    “Yeah, I guess I didn’t think of that,” he admitted.

    “I told you,” she pointed out with a hint of pride, “hotwiring a car, or acting inconspicuous, I’m your girl.”

    He didn’t know quite how to respond to that, so he just let it past. They left the forest’s shelter quietly, keeping low to the ground as they crept into the corn field beyond it. Luckily, it was late enough in the season for the stalks to be high enough to shelter them. He could hear Chloe crashing around behind him, but he didn’t look back to check on her. He kept his eyes forward, scanning with his x-ray vision for any potential dangers. There was a darkened farmhouse at the far end of the field, but it was far enough away not to worry about. Past the road though, was a different matter. An entire row of houses faced the road’s edge, and more than half of them were brightly lit. Sneaking past them wouldn’t be easy.

    They reached the end of the field and paused, crouched behind the last of the corn stalks. Chloe waited beside him tensely, looking up and down the road. “Well?” she asked impatiently after a moment. “It’s clear, let’s go.” She started forwards, but he caught her hand and pulled her back.

    “Car’s coming,” he whispered quietly to her. He saw her puzzled look and shrugged. “I can hear it.”

    “There’s no lights,” she said, looking down the road in both directions.

    “That’s what worries me.”

    After a moment, they could both hear a car engine rumbling towards them and a darkened jeep appeared slowly out of the darkness. It coasted by the road at a crawl. Clark stared inside for a moment and then quietly pulled Chloe back farther into the field. She didn’t resist, never taking her eyes off the jeep. It pulled past them and then slowed to a halt. They both waited tensely as it sat there. Chloe glanced at him quickly, and then angled her head back towards the forest. He shook his head slightly in response and stared inside the car with his x-ray vision.

    Finally, the jeep started on again, but they waited till it was out of sight before they breathed a sigh of relief. Chloe leaned back, almost panting and shook her head. “Okay,” she said, “that’s it. We have to find some cover now. I can’t take much more of this.”

    Clark was forced to agree with her. It felt like he hadn’t stopped moving since this afternoon. Then again, as he realized, he actually hadn’t. “Lead the way,” he told her, gesturing towards the road.

    Nodding, she got up and hesitantly walked out of the field. He followed after her, glancing around quickly. They both stopped at the edge of the road and glanced down it in both directions. Then they did it again. Chloe breathed out in irritation. “What, are we in preschool?” she muttered and deliberately started across the road. Clark blinked and then caught up to her, walking close behind.

    With Chloe leading, they walked up someone’s front lawn and slipped through the grass section between two neighboring houses. Another pair of backyards were joined onto the first two, and past that, another street. “It’s that one,” she muttered to him, pointing at a certain house on the opposite side of the street.

    “Right,” he said quietly and followed her across the lawns to the next street. So far, no one seemed to have noticed them.

    “What did I tell you?” she asked, as they headed across the street and up the sidewalk. “No problem.” He nodded as they reached the door. He glanced back nervously for a moment, checking the street. Chloe run the doorbell quickly, glancing through the tiny windows in the side of the doorway. The house looked darkened and it seemed to be empty.

    “What if they’re not here?” Clark asked her.

    “Trust me,” she smirked. “This guy doesn’t have anywhere else to go. Not much of a life. He had a store in town, until some people set it on fire. Town thinks he’s a big jerk, and I have to agree, but he hates Luthorcorp more than anyone else I know. He’ll help us.”

    “He sound’s promising.”

    “Hey, he’s the best I got,” she snapped. “I mean, I know a lot people, but I don’t really have many… friends. At least, friends, or family, who wouldn’t turn us both in.” Clark shrugged and glanced at the mail slot set into wall next to them. She rang the doorbell again and they saw a light flick on inside. “See, like I said,” she smiled.

    “Yeah, no problem,” Clark muttered, reading the name above the slot. It was ‘Fordman.’

    Chapter 10

    The door creaked open a foot and Whitney Fordman peered out at them. At least, he looked like Whitney Fordman. He had the same blond crew cut and pale blue eyes, but his face was more thin and haggard. Clark blinked at him, mentally taken aback to see someone who was dead in his own world. “What do you…,” Whitney started to say, when he caught sight of Chloe and stopped himself. “Oh you have to be kidding me,” he said and started to slam the door in their face.

    “Wait a minute,” Chloe yelled and threw her shoulder into the door. It stopped an inch short of closing and held there as Whitney pushed back. “We need your help, you dumb bastard! Let us in!”

    “After what you did?” he snapped, through the open space. “Not a chance, psycho!” He pushed back hard and narrowed the opening to a thin sliver.

    Chloe grunted and put her whole back into it. “C’mon, that was a while ago, and it wasn’t really my fault.” He shook his head and struggled to shut the door.

    “Care to explain any of this?” Clark asked her quietly, staring at the back and forth war going on.

    In between grunts, she gasped out, “You remember how I said somebody burned down his store? Well, I was sort of a spectator to it.”

    He gaped at her. “Chloe!”

    “Hey, it wasn’t like I helped,” she insisted.

    “Help start it or help put it out?”

    “Okay… neither, but there was a lot of people there and nobody else did anything either.”

    “That’s right,” Whitney snapped, still trying to shut the door. “The Luthors don’t like how I run my store; speak out against them; so they pay off some guys to trash it. Cops don’t show up to stop them, no one answers the fire alarms, everyone’s all been paid off. They burned my store to the ground, my father’s store! And you stood there and watched! So why should I help you with anything?” he demanded.

    “We don’t have time for this,” Clark muttered, glancing down the street as he did. Another car could come by any moment and spot them. He stepped forward and pushed the door easily open with one hand. Whitney fell back in surprise as he stepped through the doorway. Chloe huffed slightly and followed him, shutting the door behind them.

    “I almost had it,” she sniffed.

    “Of course,” Clark remarked, studying Whitney as he lay there on the floor. He was a lot slimmer and under-developed than he remembered the Whitney from his world as having been. His arms and legs seemed almost gangly as he lay there in a heap. He was wearing a baggy t-shirt over a pair of faded jeans, neither of which looked like they’d seen an iron before.

    “I’m gonna call the cops if you don’t get out of here right now,” Whitney warned them.

    Chloe rolled her eyes and kneeled down next to him. “You do that. I’m sure they’d love to have an excuse to check your house out.” He winced and glanced away quickly. “Like I thought,” she said with a grin. “Rumors are true about you.”

    “Maybe they are,” he muttered. He climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. “Just do yourself a favor and get out of here. You’re just wasting your time.”

    “Sorry, we need help and you’re going to give it to us,” she disagreed.

    He snorted and gave her a look. “Or what?”

    Chloe smiled. “Clark? Show him what happens when people disagree with us.” She folded her arms and waited, grinning wickedly. Now they were both staring at her. When nothing happened, she started to get flustered. “Well, come’ on! Melt his leg off!”

    Clark rubbed his forehead briefly and turned to Whitney. “Sorry about that, it’s been a long night and she’s… a little on edge.”

    “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Make with the eyebeams. Toast his leg; a foot, a toe; a toenail! Anything!”

    “Is she on something?” Whitney asked him quietly.

    “Excuse us a minute,” he told him quickly. He grabbed Chloe’s arm and pulled her back a few feet in the hallway. “I’m not going to do that, okay?” he told her in a loud whisper.

    “What do you mean? You beat the crap out of those guys in the sewers.” She glanced over his shoulder at Whitney. “Just lean on him a little. It’d do him some good.”

    He stared at her for a moment and then turned around, his breath whistling out between his teeth. He walked over to Whitney and took his shoulder, pulling him away from Chloe. “It’s been a very long night,” Clark apologized. “Look, I’m sorry to do this to you, but we’re really in a lot of trouble.”

    “Welcome to Smallville,” he laughed shortly.

    “It’s with the Luthors.” Whitney looked at him quickly and he went on. “I’m… not from around here, and somehow I wound up number one on their hit list, and I don’t know why. I ran into Chloe earlier, she’s an… old friend, and now she’s in as much trouble as I am.”

    “She was in a lot of trouble to start with.” He looked Clark up and down. “And don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t really strike me as an old friend of hers.”

    “It’s a very long story.”

    “This would be so much simpler if you just burnt his foot off,” Chloe remarked.

    Whitney frowned, glancing back at her, but Clark pulled him around again, trying to talk over her. “Well, anyway, she thought you could help us. Information, shelter, anything would be great. We just need a place to lie low and figure things out for a while.” Whitney frowned and shrugged off Clark’s hand. He took a step back and studied them for a moment, thinking.

    “You say Luthorcorp is after you?” he asked finally.

    “Gee, only a couple times already,” Chloe rolled her eyes.

    Whitney ignored that. “Come with me,” he told them. He led them through the house, kicking piles of dirty clothes and pizza boxes out of the way. Clark wrinkled his nose up at the smell, but didn’t say anything.

    “You know, it’s something when I’m the one grossed out by a place, Whitney,” Chloe remarked behind them. She lifted the lid of a pizza box with her foot and glanced inside. “Lovely. Cheese with what I sure hope is broccoli. You have anything that doesn’t come with a side of penicillin?”

    “In the other room,” he shrugged. They came to a particularly heavy looking door in the back wall of the room. He produced a key and unlocked it, holding it open for them. As they stepped through, both Clark and Chloe had to blink in shock. The room they’d just entered was as neat and ordered as the rest of the house was a sty. There were no windows, but a row of lights on the ceilings that lit the room brightly. There was a made bed and nightstand in the corner, with cabinets overflowing with books in another. Another corner had been made into a small kitchenette with a portable mini-grill, a microwave, and a refrigerator. There was even a table and chairs in the middle of the room.

    “Well, I can see where you’ve been spending all your time,” Chloe remarked, glancing around. “Why live like this?”

    “It’s a disguise,” Clark told her quietly. His eyes were drawn to the last corner of the room. “And I guess I see for what.” The last corner was devoted to an impressive looking hookup of monitors, hard-drives, modems, and other systems, connected by bundles of wires that snaked around and over the equipment. The machines hummed and whirred quietly, creating a steady background drone in the room.

    “Where did you get all this stuff?” he asked in amazement. He didn’t know much about computers, but these looked to be top of the line machines.

    “Here and there,” Whitney said cautiously.

    “And I suppose it’s just a coincidence that they all say ‘Luthercorp’ on them,” Chloe pointed out.

    “I have a deal with someone inside,” he told her testily. “I help him out with a few things, he makes sure a few of the latest items fall off the back of the truck, so to speak.”

    “And people call me a criminal,” she sighed.

    Whitney rounded on her fiercely. “I’m only a criminal to the big suits and money lenders.” He sneered. “The people who just sit around taking things without giving back. What about you? What have you done for anyone recently?” She bridled and started to reply but Clark broke in.

    “I can tell you she helped me today,” he said. “I don’t know if I could have gotten through this without her.” Whitney sneered again and shook his head. “She brought me here because she thought you could help us. Luthorcorp wants us for some reason, and we need you to figure out why. You say you want to help people,” Clark told him, “well here’s your chance.”

    Whitney studied him for a moment, frowning. Finally he looked over at Chloe. “Just how the hell do you know him, Sullivan?”

    “Oh,” she said, pulling a chair over and turning it around to sit in, “we go way back.” She gave him a demure little smile and tilted her head a bit.

    “So will you help us?” Clark asked him. Whitney looked back at him and didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he turned and walked over to the array of computers.

    “I’ll give you a fair chance,” he told them evenly. He sat down in the patched and ratty chair in front of the monitors. “That’s more than I owe Sullivan, anyways.”

    Chloe rolled her eyes. “You’re just a well of generosity, ain’t ya, ‘Fordman’?” she asked, stressing the name.

    “You have no idea,” he said, bending down. “Here we are.” He sat back up with a shotgun in his hands. It looked freshly polished and coldly professional. Clark and Chloe stared at him in shock. He cocked it loudly and leveled it at them. “Nice to know everything didn’t burn up in the fire, eh Chloe?”

    Clark stepped in front of her deliberately and glared at him. “And what do you expect to do with that?”

    “Like I said, I’m giving you a fair chance,” he promised them. “You just wait there and let me work. I can hack into some Luthorcorp systems, no problem with this,” he said, nodding towards the computer set-up. “Not to mention the police and local FBI mainframes. If you’re story checks out, and they do want you, then everything’s fine. If not, well…”

    Chloe laughed and stood behind Clark, peeking over his shoulder. “I almost wish we were lying,” she told him. “Just so I could see the look on your face when you pull the trigger.”

    “Chloe,” Clark warned her in a low voice.

    “You might get that chance,” Whitney told her. He lay the gun down on the top of the nearest screen, keeping the barrel facing towards them. “Now lets see here,” he started, sitting down in front of a monitor. “Just make yourself comfortable,” he told them dryly.

    Clark gritted his teeth in irritation and glanced at Chloe. She shrugged and laughed a little. “So is he a big ass where you’re from too?” Chloe asked him.

    “He once hung me up in a cornfield in my boxers,” he admitted.

    “Ooh, I like this story!” She laughed again and sat forward eagerly. “Tell me more!”

    He coughed into his fist and looked back at Whitney. “So what’s the verdict?” he asked. Whitney glanced up at him briefly.

    “I just started,” he remarked. “You’re going to have to give me a little more time.” He frowned and looked up at him. “A name would probably help too. I know Sullivan well enough, from her rap sheet as much as anything.” Chloe smiled at him and flipped him off.

    “Right,” Clark realized. “Sorry about that. It’s Clark Kent.” Whitney frowned and looked up at him for a moment. “What? What is it?” he asked, seeing the look.

    Whitney frowned, lost in thought. “I’ve heard that name before,” he muttered.

    “I have parents here. The Kent’s, they have a farm outside of town?” Clark supplied.

    Whitney did look up then, his eyes wide. “The Kent farm? About three miles out, past Sales road?” he asked.

    Clark nodded quickly. “You know it?”

    “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Luthorcorp owns it.” He looked for a moment like he was going to say more, but then he looked back down quickly. “They own a lot, though.” Clark stared at him and then glanced over at Chloe. She shrugged helplessly.

    “Didn’t realize the Kent’s had a son though,” Whitney remarked, not looking up.

    “You knew them?” Chloe asked.

    “Yeah,” he said slowly. “Something like-“ he was cut off as his computer chimed once. “Here we are,” he said, leaning forwards. “Well what do you know,” he said, smiling. “Chloe Sullivan speaks the truth. They’ve got your mug shot up and everything.”

    “Ass,” she muttered under her breath.

    Clark stepped around the desk and looked over Whitney’s shoulder. “What does it say about me?”

    “Mmm…” he scanned the page. “Basic description, no name. It’s red-flagged though. And I do mean red-flagged.” He stared at the screen. “I’ve never seen them put out this many warnings. It looks like they’ve put everyone who has anything to do with Luthorcorp on full alert.” He sat back, shaking his head. He almost sounded impressed with all of this attention. Clark and Chloe shared a quick, worried look.

    “I don’t know what you did to them,” Whitney told them, “but they want you bad.”

    Chapter 11

    The doors to Lab 2 finally opened with a pneumatic sigh and Lionel stepped out. Lana straightened to attention, waiting for him to notice her. She’d managed to grab a quick shower and a change of uniform in the meantime and had been waiting for more than an hour for him to emerge. He didn’t notice her right away, he simply stood there, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Then he glanced up, noting her, and a slight smile touched his face. “Lana,” he greeted her simply. He looked over his shoulder at the closing lab doors and the smile faded from his face. “Anything else to report?” he asked her quietly, still gazing at the doors.

    “No, sir. There were a few false positives that were reported, but nothing solid.” He turned his gaze back on her and she swallowed, feeling his displeasure. “It’s just a matter of time, sir.”

    He said nothing and started to walk down the hall. Surprised, Lana fell into step slightly behind him. She glanced behind them at the receding lab and noted his preoccupied expression. “Did you ask her about the alien?” she ventured carefully.

    He considered that and nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

    After a long moment, she asked, “And?”

    “And she wouldn’t answer me. She claimed he was blocked from her.”

    “But I thought that was…”

    “Impossible,” he laughed, “yes, to a human. Certainly it’s the first time she’s been unable to answer a question before. Yet he may be able to shield himself from her. Perhaps it’s possible, or perhaps not.” He stared off into space, contemplating it.

    “Would she have any reason to lie to you?”

    Lionel frowned and nodded. “That is something to consider.” He was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”

    “We’ve identified the girl with the alien. She’s General Lane’s niece.”

    He looked at her, surprised. “Are you certain?” She nodded. He considered it for a moment. “Does the General know about this development?”

    “We don’t believe so, sir. He hasn’t been alerted.” She hesitated. “We thought it best if we let you be the one to judge what to do with this. There’s no hurry though. It seems the two didn’t have a very close relationship in the first place. From our reports, she’s been missing from home since last week.”

    “Very good,” he murmured. He smiled at her one-sidedly. “It was Lex’s idea to keep the General in the dark, wasn’t it?”

    Lana blinked in surprise, but controlled herself. “Yes,” she said slowly. He nodded.

    “He is quite brilliant, wouldn’t you say? But what else could be expected from him?” They arrived at a pair of sturdy, metal doors and Lana started to excuse herself, but Lionel waved her on. “That’s not necessary, I want to speak with you some more.” She was surprised, but nodded quietly.

    He pressed his hand against the sensor to the side and the door’s swung open softly. The room inside wasn’t any cold and sterile science lab, but actually a warm, paneled study built for Lionel’s private use. She had only been inside it a few times before, and was always surprised by the richness in the air as she stepped through the doorway. It was such a difference from the cold, filtered air outside. Lionel touched a few buttons on a panel on the wall and softly, a light sonata began to play. He smiled and stepped over to a cabinet, freeing a bourbon bottle and glass.

    “Care for anything?” he asked her quietly. She shook her head, a little off balance from the offer. He poured one for himself and then studied her for a moment. Lana shifted on her feet, suddenly feeling anxious. She fought back the nervousness and waited, raising her chin. “Something’s bothering you,” he remarked, finally.

    “I’m fine, sir. There’s nothing wrong.”

    “Lana,” he said reproachfully. “Who raised after your parents died? Who took you in, gave you a home, an education? Who arranged for you to study with the greatest masters, all because you insisted on doing so?” He sank into the leather chair behind his desk, still watching her. “Who gave you an opportunity to shine here?”

    “You did, sir.” Her voice was hardly any more than a whisper.

    “Then who would know when something was bothering you, hmm?”

    “You would, sir.”

    He smiled at her genially. “It’s Lex, isn’t it?” She winced and bit her lip, not trusting herself to look at him. He swirled his drink slowly, watching the liquid in his glass. “It’s alright,” he told her gently, looking back up at her. “I understand. You’re upset because of what I decided.”

    “I don’t…” she started.

    “Do you think I made a mistake?”

    “No! No, that’s not it!” she said sharply, her head snapping up. “I would never doubt… I just feel… I… don’t trust him.”

    “Lex has shown himself to be very dependable in the past,” he reminded her. “More than capable as well.”

    “I don’t like how he talks to you,” she said quietly.

    “He’s impatient for power.” He sipped his drink and smiled appreciatively. “Much like I was at his age. But trust me, he knows his place.” Then he put his glass down and looked at her sharply. “But that’s not what upset you, is it?” She stared off into space for a moment and then shook her head. “Tell me.”

    She flinched visibly. “Was… Was I right, today?” she asked hesitantly. “To order my men to open fire? Those people are dead now… because of what I did. I couldn’t stop myself, I saw him standing there and there was this roaring in my ears.” She took a breath, and let it out heavily. “And then suddenly I was yelling and firing and everyone was firing and when it was over-“ She looked down, her face tormented.

    “Go on,” he said gently.

    “When it was over, part of me knew it was wrong, but another part of me didn’t care. I just stepped over their bodies and went on with the mission.” She was quiet for a moment and then looked up, watching him. “Was that right?”

    Lionel seemed to measure her for a moment, and then he gave her a small nod. “The taking of life, human life, is always a heavy act,” he explained to her gently. “But you had no choice. It this sort of a situation, there are rarely good choices.” He smiled at her sadly. “To be a leader, means being able to make some choices and do some things that others would not be able to. And sometimes it means shutting your emotions off, making yourself into stone for a time. It may seem horrifying now, but we have to put things into perspective. The alien could’ve killed hundreds if he had been left alone. With what we know from the first, there’s every reason to believe that he’s just as violent and destructive. Your quick thinking could have saved countless people today.”

    She listened quietly, clearly still upset. He saw her confusion and he shook his head sadly. “If anyone is to blame, Lana, it’s me. I shouldn’t have laid such heavy burdens on one so young. Please forgive me.”

    “No, it’s not your fault,” she told him quickly. “You’ve done everything for me, I wouldn’t have anything if you hadn’t… Please, I can handle this,” she swore to him. “I need to be here”

    “Because of your parents?” She froze, blinking fiercely. “Because of what he did to them?” Lionel asked.

    “Yes,” she said horsely. “He took everything away from me.”

    “You were so young then,” he murmured. “How old were you, four, five? To lose everything in a single instant. You must have felt so alone.” She closed her eyes, remembering the horror of it. Her arms started to tremble at her sides.

    “Your only family an aunt who didn’t want you. Everyone else too busy with their own tragedies to care about you. You had no one, you were no one.”

    The ringing in her ears drowned out all the music, deafening her. Lionel watched her silently, waiting. “Until you,” she said, forcing it out.

    “Until me,” he smiled. “You won’t let me down, will you?”

    “No, sir,” she said wearily, feeling so drained. “You can count on me.”

    “I do, Lana.” He sat up and walked around his desk again to face her. She looked away, uncertain, as he reached up and brushed her cheek softly. “I think of you like the daughter I was never blessed with,” he said quietly. She felt herself go red, but was unable to move away. He raised her chin gently and her eyes were helplessly caught in his gaze.

    “You are such a beautiful, capable girl,” he murmured. “So strong, yet so fragile, like polished glass, balancing on a point.” She stared into his eyes, unable to move or even look away. The music seemed to reach a crescendo behind them. Lionel smiled at her, and then stepped back and turned away. Just as suddenly, the spell was broken, and she took a step back herself involuntarily. She clasped a hand to her chest, feeling her heart racing.

    “I’ll be making another trip out to the site this morning,” he remarked, picking up his glass from the desk. He refilled it at the cabinet and turned to her, swirling his drink again. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

    It took her a moment to collect her thoughts, but she nodded. “No, sir, I’ll arrange a detail.”

    “That’s fine. I think that will be all tonight.” He sipped his drink and turned back to his desk, waving her away.

    “I… uh,” she hesitated. He looked back at her, surprised. “I saw the Talon today,” she went on.

    He thought for a moment, and then nodded to himself. “You’re parent’s theater, right?”

    She nodded. “It was… worse than I remembered.” He waited, watching her. “I was thinking,” she said slowly. “Luthorcorp still owns the property. Maybe we could rebuild it or something.”

    “Of course,” he smiled at her. “I’ll get some people on it right away. It’ll be as good as new before you know it.”

    “I was hoping I could help out with that. Maybe be put in charge of it?”

    “Lana,” he said reproachfully. “You know we don’t have time for that. We’ll put someone else on it. Someone we can spare.” She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment.

    “That’s a good girl,” he told her, waving her away.

    ***

    Chloe stepped into Whitney’s computer room in the midst of wrapping a towel around herself. She had left them to their research in favor of a hot shower. As she came back inside, Clark practically choked as he caught a glimpse of her adjusting the towel. His eyes went wide as he watched her stand in the doorway, dripping wet. What happened next was unintentional, but probably unavoidable. His vision shifted briefly, and he caught a more intimate glimpse of her before he jerked his eyes away, staring at the floor.

    As he tried to not think about what he saw, his mouth betrayed him by blurting out “When did you get a tattoo!”

    Chloe and Whitney stared at him, she amused, him puzzled. He peered over his monitor at her and shrugged. “I don’t see any tattoos.”

    She smiled and looked down at herself. “I don’t see any either, Clark. Do you?” she remarked, barely holding back a laugh.

    “Just forget it,” he muttered, not trusting himself to look at her again.

    She laughed wickedly and then turned to Whitney. “I thought about washing my clothes, but I think a bonfire’s the only way to deal with them now. You have anything else for me to wear around here?”

    He stood up and walked over to the kitchenette, snagging a coffee cup and filling it from a nearby pot. “You mean aside from my towel?” he remarked dryly. “You can check the boxes in the back of the house. There’s some stuff I saved from the fire. Should be something in there for you.”

    “Thanks,” she said. Then she glanced over at Clark and grinned again. “The showers all ready. If you need any help finding it, just call me.” Laughing, she turned around and left, the towel’s edge flipping up a little as she walked off. Clark looked away again and caught Whitney’s eye. He was watching him, his eyebrows raised questionably.

    “It’s not what you think,” Clark muttered. Whitney rolled his eyes and went back to work. He balanced the coffee mug on the corner of the desk and stared at the screen, ignoring Clark. “I’m serious, we’re just friends,” he tried to defend himself.

    “’Just friends’ means a little different with that girl,” Whitney remarked.

    “What do you mean by that?” Clark asked him slowly.

    Whitney stopped typing and looked up at him, smiling slightly. “Just things I’ve heard. We never really ran in the same crowd in high school, but I saw what she was like. ‘Course I stopped going about a year ago, so who knows, maybe she’s changed. I doubt it though.” He went back to typing but then stopped again and looked up, frowning.

    “Speaking of which,” he asked, “how do you know her?”

    “We’re old friends,” Clark told him angrily.

    Whitney smirked and looked back down at the screen. “I guess you’d know her best then,” he remarked. Clark glared at him, but didn’t say anything in response.

    He stood there for a minute, listening to Whitney type away, and then he turned suddenly. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announced.

    “Sure, you do that,” he replied, not bothering to look up.

    “I mean it, I am,” he insisted.

    “Wonderful, Clark, but it’s not anything special. Trust me, you’re won’t be the first guy to get there.”

    Clark opened the door and paused, looking back at him. “I’m still talking about the shower.”

    “Oh well, same goes.” He didn’t even bother to look up as he said it. Grumbling, Clark slammed the door behind him, hard, and listened as he heard the coffee mug fall and shatter. He smiled as he heard Whitney yell in shock and start to curse as it spilled all over him.

    That sentiment was fleeting though as he walked through the darkened hallways. He heard Chloe humming softly to herself in the next room and he stopped, mentally preparing himself. When he was ready, he knocked quietly. “Chloe?” he croaked. He tried again after clearing his voice. “Chloe? Are you decent?”

    “Am I ever?” she asked through the door. “But yeah, you can come in anyways.” He took another breath and opened the door, shutting it behind him as he stepped inside. Chloe was in the middle of pulling a tight, gray shirt on. She smiled at him and turned around, showing off. “He didn’t manage to save much, did he?” With the shirt she had on a pair of jeans that started a few inches below her navel. She kicked a box full of shoes and bent down, rummaging through them.

    “Chloe, I think we really need to talk about something,” he started. She turned around and waited, smiling. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but I meant what I said earlier. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through today without your help.”

    “Hey, no biggie,” she said, stepping close to him. “I’m sure you would’ve done the same for me. In fact,” she touched him lightly on the chest, “you did do the same for me, didn’t you? At the Talon?”

    “Yeah, I guess I did,” he stammered.

    She smiled and stepped even closer. “So let’s see: once for saving me from the dogs, another at the Talon. I helped you find Whitney, so that just means I owe you one, don’t I?” Clark was having a hard time thinking straight, listening to her. She was so close now, both of her hands on his shoulders. Chloe glanced at his shirt and smiled. “You still haven’t had a shower yet, have you? Why don’t we take care of that right now.” Her hands slipped up into his neck and latched into his hair, pulling his head down.

    Clark said something in surprise, but it was muffled against her lips. He tasted her for a moment and then he took a step back, staring at her. She was no less surprised, still standing there, with her arms out. “What?” she asked, a little hurt. “What’s wrong?”

    “We can’t…” he swallowed and looked away. “We can’t do that.”

    “Why not? I thought you wanted to..” her voice trailed off. “Why can’t we?” He hesitated, searching for the words. “What? Is it, me?” she asked.

    “No!” he told her. “It’s just… we’re… you and me, we’re just friends okay?”

    “Friends?” she asked, staring at him.

    “The two of us, well, the other you really. We’re not together. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Things are getting a little confused, and I just wanted you to know some things. It’s complicated, but I’m sort of with someone else. I didn’t want to lead you on or anything, making you think there was anything ever between us.”

    Chloe stared at him, her face flat. “Between me and you?” she asked him, her voice like a whip, “or between you and that other me?”

    “What?” he started.

    “You think I haven’t noticed?” she demanded. “It’s like you’ve been dropping all these hints today about you and this other me, whoever she is. You just went on and on about her, but now there’s this other girl, huh? Where’s she been all day? You haven’t mentioned one word about her now, have you? Or gone looking for her? Have you done that, even talked about it? No, it’s just been Chloe this and Chloe that.”

    “You’re the only person I’ve seen all day that I know,” Clark yelled at her, starting to get a little angry. “What was I supposed to do, leave you and go running around for someone who could be dead for all I know?”

    Chloe folded her arms and stared at him coolly. “Maybe you should,” she replied. “I’m not what you remember, maybe they’d be.”

    “And what if they’re not?” he asked, his voice starting to crack. “It was enough of a shock meeting you today, but what if, when I find them, it’s even worse?”

    “Worse?” she repeated coldly. “Worse?”

    “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, hissing in irritation.

    “What did you mean then?” She waited; her eyes like daggers. “Let’s get one thing straight, okay?” she told him. “I’m not your Chloe. I’m not her. I’m me, myself. I’d don’t know or care about what she’s like. I don’t care if she’s a saint; she’s not me. You think I’ve been hanging out with you all day because you said we were friends somewhere else? I could’ve blown you off anytime; I stuck around because I wanted to. And now I’m not so sure that was such a good idea.” She stormed past him and out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Clark stared after her, but couldn’t think of anything to say that would get her back.

    Chapter 12

    “So this is what I’ve got,” Whitney said, spinning around in his chair to face him. Clark blinked wearily and tried to focus on him. He hadn’t slept a wink the whole night and it was starting to tell. Not that he hadn’t tried, he thought to himself, but after the argument with Chloe he hadn’t been able to rest. “You alright?” Whitney asked him, noticing his lack of attention.

    “Yeah, fine, just a little tired.” He stood up and walked over to the computer monitors. Squinting at them, he forced himself to read the text on the screen.

    “When’s the last time you slept?” he asked him.

    “Last night.”

    “Amateur,” Whitney scoffed. “I don’t really do that too often myself. Not when there’s nature’s alternative.” He waved his mug and set it back down, turning back to the screen. “If I ever switched to decaf I’d probably fall into a coma.”

    “You said you had something,” Clark reminded him, bringing him back on track.

    “Right. Well, basically, we’re looking at an across the board alert here,” he gestured at the screen. “Everybody on the Luthorcorp payroll or mailing list has been put on notice about you. File clerks, plant managers, factory workers; roughly 80% of the people who have a job in this town are on the look out for you.”

    “That many people?”

    “Smallville begins and ends with the Luthors, Clark,” he sighed. “Believe me I wish it wasn’t true.”

    He breathed out and then shrugged. “Well, all the emails and alerts, that’s the general stuff, kid’s play to dig that out,” he went on. “I got all of that in the first hour. Hacking the encrypted stuff, scanning their frequencies, that takes longer. I still can’t get into all of their files yet, but I think I caught the important pieces.”

    “Is anyone going to be able to trace what you’re doing?” Clark asked him.

    Whitney laughed and then smiled at him strangely. “I’ve got a backdoor into their system. Trust me, no way they could trace this.” Clark nodded dubiously and continued to read.

    “Is this the Luthorcorp mainframe?” he asked, a little surprised.

    “One of the smaller servers,” he shook his head. Glancing around, he asked, “You going to get Chloe for this?”

    Clark winced and looked away. “That might not be a good idea. She’s… worse off than I am. Let her sleep.”

    Whitney studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Fight, huh?”

    “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he remarked. Whitney shrugged and turned back to the screen. “So, what else have you found?”

    “Well, I have what they have, or what I can find of it,” he started. Whitney pointed to a section with his mouse and highlighted it. “They’ve got a description of both of you, an ID on Sullivan, no ID on you yet, but they do have a whole page of warnings about you though. All of this is the general info, what’s been passed onto the police and FBI,” he explained.

    “FBI?” Clark gulped. “The government is after us?”

    “Sure, why not?” he replied offhand. “Officially, they’ll supervise the search. Unofficially, they’ll leave it to the Corps. I doubt you’ll even see an agent in town. Smallville is pretty much cut off from the rest of the country these days. Government steps back and lets Luthorcorp take care of all of us. They call it ensuring the security of contracts. Luthorcorp builds and runs a lot of things for the government, half of them the rest of the country probably doesn’t know about.”

    “What else?” Clark asked, a little sick to his stomach.

    “Well, it gets more interesting the deeper you dig through their system. These warnings, they’re pretty detailed,” he said, bringing them up on the screen. He read them aloud. “’Please note that the subject should be considered extremely dangerous. Do not approach or provoke in any manner. Do not attempt to fire on or subdue the subject in any manner. Report any sightings to the nearest Luthorcorp office.’” He shook his head. “Seems kind of extreme for just a teenager. Any idea why’d they be so afraid of you?”

    “No,” Clark said carefully. It was the truth, he rationalized, he didn’t know why they’d be afraid of him. Whitney shrugged and went on.

    “That’s everything that was sent inside the city limits, farther out, at some of their more rural stations, things get a bit weirder. They talk about reporting any unnatural disturbances; lights in the sky, sounds, crop circles, cattle mutilations.” He paused and made a face. “I wish I made that last one up by the way,” he remarked, “but it’s there. Since this afternoon, it’s like the entire county’s been put on X-Files alert.”

    “Uh huh,” Clark said slowly. This was all hitting a little close to home for his tastes. How could they know this much about him already?

    “Is that it?” Whitney asked him. “’uh huh?’ I think you’d be a bit more concerned about this.”

    “I’m just a little overwhelmed,” he said quickly. “It’s not every day I’m public enemy number one.” He leaned in to get a closer look of the screen. Whitney watched him closely as did so.

    “You know, there’s one more thing I forgot to mention,” he told him. There was something in his tone that made Clark look up anxiously. “Two hours ago, they sent an order to have three of their satellites positioned in a geo-synchronous orbit directly over Smallville.”

    “They’re searching for us with satellites?” Clark asked in a strangled voice.

    “Yeah, except they’re all pointed the wrong way; straight up.” He fixed Clark with an intense stare. “Care to tell me what they’re looking for?”

    Clark looked back at the screen, his throat suddenly dry. “I don’t know what they expect to find,” he replied.

    Whitney pursed his lips and nodded. He sat back in his chair, thinking to himself. “I realize I haven’t given you every reason to trust me just yet,” he said quietly. “We only met a few hours ago, and through Sullivan, who I have to admit, is not my favorite person,” he shrugged. “But you can trust me. If you’re in this against Luthorcorp, I’m with you. I owe them that much.”

    “I don’t want to be against anybody,” Clark remarked, walking away. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Whitney. “I’m not from here… I don’t anything about what’s going on. I stepped into this town today for the first time and people started shooting at me. No reason, no explanation, they just started firing. They cut through a crowd, just because I was there. And I don’t know why!” he shouted, slicing his hand through the air.

    Whitney shrugged and looked sympathetic. “They did it because they could, as for why…” he sighed and turned back to the computer. “It might be in here somewhere, we just have to keep looking.” He paused and looked back at Clark speculatively.

    “What?” he asked, seeing the look.

    “You feel bad about what they did to those people today?” he asked suddenly. Clark blinked and then frowned at him.

    “Of course I do, what kind of question is that?”

    “What I mean is,” he said, “how far would you be willing to go to make sure that doesn’t happen again? To make things right? Maybe get some answers while we’re at it?”

    “What do you mean?” Clark asked him carefully.

    Whitney smiled. “There might be some people I know who could help you. I think they’d be interested in meeting you. With all the bad press about you, they’d be really willing. Any enemy of Luthorcorp would be a-“ he was cutoff suddenly by a buzzing sound from a device on the wall. A read light on the device started to blink quickly. Whitney spun around and keyed into the computer as Clark stood there, staring around wildly.

    “What it is?” he asked. “What’s happening?”

    “I’ve got a security system set up for the house. Someone’s trying to get in,” he replied tersely. “I locked the house up tight and turned it on as soon as you got here.” He paused and looked up. “No one followed you here, right?”

    “No, no one,” Clark said. “What are you doing?” he asked, as Whitney started to type at the computer.

    “There’s a camera outside the front door, should tell us who’s there.” He pulled up a video window on his computer screen and stared at it. There definitely was a figure there, playing with the lock, but they couldn’t make out anything. “Too dark,” he muttered. “Maybe I can change the resolution.”

    As he started to adjust the settings, Clark turned around and stared at the wall. He focused his vision for a moment and the house seemed to fall away. He could see Chloe’s prone skeleton at the back of the house, sound asleep, and another skeleton standing at the front door. Then his eyes caught something and he looked closer. There were green patches of light covering the intruder’s skeleton. It was the meteor rocks, he realized in a rush. Then he remembered where’d he seen that kind of marking before, and on whom.

    “I got it,” Whitney started to say behind him, but Clark was already gone. He shouldered the computer room door open, splintering it off its frame, and dashed through the house. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or that he was still on edge from the previous attack, but Clark was suddenly fighting mad. All the aches and weariness in him fell away in a blind rage. If they wanted keep sending people after him, he though, he’d just have to convince them otherwise.

    Clark wasn’t quite moving at top speed when he hit the front door, but it was going fast enough. He exploded through it, tackling the girl standing in the doorway. Splinters of wood rained down around them as his momentum carried them through the air. He heard the wind rush out of her as they fell onto the lawn and he rolled away, his fists ready. Too many things had happened to today to make him go easy on her. She tried to climb to her feet, but he knocked her back on the ground with one punch. As he pulled his fist back to hit her again, he heard Whitney rush up behind him.

    “Get back,” he warned. The girl started to stir and Clark cocked his fist again, but Whitney flew past him.

    “Are you insane?” he nearly shouted at him. “What the hell are you doing? Why did you attack her?”

    “Get out of the way,” Clark tried to step past him, but Whitney bent down and took her in his arms.

    “If you try to do anything like that again, I’ll turn you in myself,” he warned him. The sheer vehemence in his voice made Clark take a step back, suddenly confused. Turning back to the girl, Whitney stared down at her worriedly.

    It wasn’t hard for Clark to recognize her, even without using his x-ray vision to identify her. He had even briefly seen her earlier in town. She had the same long, dark hair and slightly angular face that he remembered from his world. Clark focused his x-ray vision on her one more time, and sure enough, the signs of the meteor rock radiation were still there. There wasn’t any doubt about it, it was Tina Greer.

    “Oh my God,” he whispered to her, “Tina, are you okay?” She rolled her head around and stared at him dully. A nasty looking bruise was already forming on her jaw. Clark could only stare in shock as Whitney touched her cheek gently.

    “What the hell was that?” Chloe asked behind them. She was standing in what was left of the doorway, bleary-eyed and an unsteady. “Can’t we go like an hour without getting attacked?”

    Clark turned towards her quickly and tried to shove her back inside. “Just get back inside,” he told her. “I’ll take care of this.”

    “You’ve done enough already,” Whitney snapped as he walked past them, carrying Tina in his arms. She moaned something unintelligibly and he shushed her. He stopped at the hole in the doorframe and stared back at Clark. “Fix this and then both of you get inside,” he said through clenched teeth. “I think we’re all going to have to sit down and have a talk.” With that, he disappeared back inside, leaving Chloe and Clark standing there.

    They looked at each other uncertainly until finally Clark shrugged. “I thought …,” he started to say lamely, but she rolled her eyes and stepped through the gaping hole in the doorway, ignoring him. He stared after her and then glanced around at the scattered, broken pieces of wood lying around him. He started to gather them up, muttering to himself, but then he stopped and slowly looked up at the houses directly across the street. Then he looked up and down the block at all the other houses surrounding them. So far no other lights were on, but there was no telling how many people had heard all the noise. Dropping the pieces of wood, he stepped quickly through the doorway and started down the hall. He met Chloe standing there halfway in.

    “Forgetting something?” she asked. He blinked and she nodded behind him towards the large hole where the door had once been. Clark winced and then looked around quickly for something to block it with. Finally he settled for pulling a nearby closet door off its hinges and jamming it into place where the front door had been. He thoughtfully jammed a few of the larger pieces splinters of wood into the gaps to keep anyone else from forcing it open.

    “Oh Whitney is just going to love this,” Chloe remarked behind him. “I bring you here, we force our way in, and you go and destroy his house and attack his girlfriend. Was that actually planned, pissing him off that badly?” she tossed back as she walked down the hallway. “Or was that just another one of your powers I didn’t know about?”

    “Hey it wasn’t like I knew she wasn’t here to…” he stopped and blinked suddenly. “Wait a minute,” he called after her. “Girlfriend?”

    Comment


    • #3
      Chapter 13

      “You mind telling us what you thought you were doing?” Whitney snarled at Clark as he came back into the computer room. He had Tina Greer propped up on his bed and was holding at damp washcloth to her forehead. Her eyes were still a little out of focus, but the glare she fixed him with was steady enough. Clark winced as he saw the dark bruise on the lower side of her face. He’d caused that, he thought, aghast.

      “Look, I’m sorry I…” he started to apologize.

      “Sorry doesn’t cut it!” he yelled. “What were you thinking?” Clark hesitated and glanced at Chloe. She was sitting idly by the computer terminals, smiling to herself. There wasn’t going to be any help from her, he realized.

      “I wasn’t. I saw someone on the monitor and I just panicked.” He averted his eyes from Tina. “It was an accident.”

      Whitney stared at him for a moment, his face going even more grim. “An accident is tripping over something. You ran through two doors to get to her. You nearly knocked this one off its hinges,” he gestured towards the computer room door, “and turned the front one into toothpicks. I’ve seen tornados do less damage.” Clark gritted his teeth and winced. Whitney glared at him and leaned in closer. “Which bring up a good question,” he went on, “how?” Clark’s head jerked up suddenly and if it was possible, Chloe’s smiled got even bigger. She was clearly enjoying herself.

      “Do what?” Clark stuttered lamely, his mind racing for a plausible excuse.

      “Go through my door like it was cardboard,” he grated. “That’s what.”

      “I don’t know. Uh, shoddy workmanship?” he offered. Chloe snorted to herself. It didn’t sound very convincing at all, even to him.

      “Maybe you didn’t notice when you were smashing through it,” Whitney drawled, “but there was a thin sheet of steel in that door. I’m not very well liked,” Chloe snorted again, “and I put it in to keep people out,” he went on. “It should’ve been more than enough to keep you in.” Clark was trapped now and he knew it. “So try again.”

      He waited as Clark stood there, trying to think of an explanation. He’d have to tell them, he realized. There was no other way. But Tina, he thought, glancing at her. He x-rayed her again for a moment, so quickly that the green glow from the radiation in her body lingered, ghost-like, over her body. The Tina he had known had been a murderer with a fixation on Lana Lang. She’d almost killed them both once, before dying herself, but here she was, alive and well and close to Whitney. Could he trust her, or even Whitney, he asked himself. How well did he know either of them?

      While Clark hesitated, Whitney finally swore and shook his head. He grabbed Clark’s arm and pushed him towards the door. “That’s it; I’m throwing both of you out of here. I don’t care if Lionel Luthor himself is right outside, you’re leaving.”

      “Oh God, listen to the drama queen,” Chloe said, exasperated. She rolled her eyes and leaned sideways in the chair, her legs hanging off the arm.

      “Something to add, Sullivan?” he turned on her. “You brought him here, you care to explain?”

      “Sure, if it means you two will stop being idiots about this.” Clark stared at her, his heart in his throat. She shrugged and spun the chair around. “You want to know about Clark, fine, I can deal. He’s special, that’s all. And I don’t mean in the tall, dim, irritating, and cute sort of way, though he’s got that going, I mean in the ‘different from your average guy’, special.”

      Whitney frowned at her. “Special… How?”

      “You know the rumors about the meteor rocks changing people?” she asked him. “They’re true. He’s proof.” Now they were all speechless, Clark most of all. He wasn’t so far gone though that he missed seeing Tina stiffen up suddenly, her eyes wide.

      Whitney looked Clark up and down, blinking in astonishment. Then he shook his head, his face darkening again. “********,” Whitney told her. “They’re just rumors.”

      “How else you gonna explain how he went through your house like a locomotive?” she asked him sunnily.

      “You really expect me to believe that?” he asked her incredulously.

      “Hey, I didn’t believe it either till Clark here punched a hole in about a foot of concrete. Something like that tends to convince a person, that and the whole of Luthor Corps trying to kill us.”

      “I heard about that,” Tina spoke up for the first time. She looked at Clark, her face puzzled. “It was you they were after?”

      “Wait a minute,” Whitney broke in, waving his hands. “I’m all for rumors and conspiracies, especially when it’s connected to Luthorcorp, but I’ve never seen anything to suggest that the rocks can change people. They’re harmless; I had one as a paperweight and you don’t see me sprouting another pair of arms.”

      “You have gotten dumber though,” Chloe breezed.

      “What I mean is,” he snarled, glaring at her, “the meteor rocks are all over the place, and I’ve never heard of this happening to anyone else, so do you expect me to believe that he’s the first person to be changed by them?” he asked, gesturing to Clark.

      “Not the first,” Clark said, eyeing Tina. She caught the look and stared back at him, clearly disturbed. Whitney missed the exchange though, and turned towards him.

      “Well then where are the rest, huh?”

      “I’m not really the one you should ask about that,” Clark told him.

      Tina flinched visibly and then she seemed to steel herself. She started to raise herself up gingerly. Whitney noticed and quickly rushed back to kneel down beside her. He steadied her shoulder and took her hand. “Whoa, are you sure you should be doing that?” he asked her.

      “No, but that’s not really an issue,” she told him, never taking her eyes off Clark. “We need to talk, alone.”

      Whitney blinked and then glanced back at Clark and Chloe. “I think that should probably wait until later.”

      “No, sorry, not you,” she disagreed. Whitney’s eyes grew wide as he followed her stare. Clark nodded at her and waited, his arms folded over his chest.

      “Wait a minute,” Whitney protested, “I’m not leaving you alone with him. He jumped you not five minutes ago!”

      “We’re not going to fight are we?” Tina asked over his shoulder at Clark.

      He shrugged. “I’ve had a very long day, but I’m willing to go on your basic faith here.”

      “Tina,” Whitney pleaded again.

      She looked pained at the tone in his voice, but she remained resolute. “I’m sorry, but this is something I have to do,” she told him. “Why don’t you go find something to fix the door with? We’ll be fine.” He didn’t move, his eyes pleading with her. “Please.” Finally he bowed his head and nodded. He got up slowly and turned towards Clark, his face stony.

      “If anything happens…,” he warned him, trailing off.

      “Lord,” Chloe laughed again. “You’ll do what; break your fist on his jaw?” Whitney shot her a look, then turned around and stomped out of the room. She smirked at him from her chair.

      “Chloe,” Clark spoke up, “you too.”

      “Oh, come’ on,” she protested. “You owe me!”

      “Chloe!” he barked at her, his temper starting to fray.

      She sniffed and said, “Whatever.” She left as well, slamming the door behind her. Finally they were alone. Clark studied her carefully. She looked almost exactly like he remembered her, but that didn’t mean much, he realized, when you could change the appearance of your body absolutely. That was the effect the meteor rocks had had on Tina Greer. She’d been born with a bone disease that had left her frail and almost bed-ridden, but after the meteor shower, she had mysteriously recovered. It wasn’t until much later that they had learned that the meteor rocks had been responsible for it all. Along with healing her, they had also given her the ability to control the shape of her body, allowing her to mimic anyone’s appearance. Additionally, or simply as a side-effect of her new ability, she had also been given increased strength and speed, enough to prove a serious threat to Clark. They had fought twice in his Smallville, the last time ending in her accidental death. But that had been in his world, Clark realized. The question now was, how different was she here?

      Tina remained silent, staring at him intensely. Not willing to be the first to speak, Clark waited, eying her back. Finally, she broke the silence. “How do you know?” she asked him, her voice as tight as a wire.

      “About you?” he asked, surprised. She nodded curtly and he shrugged. “I could see it in you. It’s one of my powers.” Tina seemed to deflate, her chest heaving. She stared off into space, her mouth half open. Clark cocked his head, puzzled by her response.

      “He doesn’t know, does he?” he asked suddenly, glancing towards the door.

      Her head snapped up immediately. “No!” she almost cried. Then she went on, more softly, “No, of course not. I don’t use it often, and never around anyone else.”

      “You don’t?” he asked, surprised again.

      “Why would I want to?” She looked at him incredulously. “To let him know I’m a freak? That I put his life in danger just by being near him? Things are hard enough as it is.” She looked away sadly, and then glanced back. “You look surprised,” she pointed out.

      “I just thought you would’ve told him,” he replied.

      “How many people have you told?” she asked in response.

      Clark grunted offhand and nodded. “Point taken. Though,” he admitted, “a lot more people than I thought seemed to have figured it out already.”

      “Luthorcorp,” she breathed out. “I don’t think we can help you with that. If they want you, they’ll find you. They found all the others.”

      “There were others?” he asked.

      She nodded. “A lot more. Maybe thirty, maybe fifty, maybe even a hundred. No one knows for certain. A few years after the meteor shower, Luthorcorp started going through the town, interviewing everyone, tracking down stories, following up on rumors. Their men were everywhere with trucks and equipment. When they found someone like us, somebody different, they took them away to their labs.” As she spoke, Clark heard her voice start to crack. There was such pain and fear in it, fear he recognized so well. He knew what it was like to live day to day hiding a secret. The suspicion; the tension building and building till it felt like you might just tear apart. He knew what that was like.

      “I don’t know if anyone else knew what was happening,” she went on. “Maybe it was just the freaks like us that knew, because we were more observant or just more nervous. Or maybe everyone else was just happy to see us taken away. After a while, they got nearly everyone. I was only safe because my mother kept me hidden. I had always been sick, so it wasn’t difficult to keep me at home and away from people. Then, about a few years ago, they just stopped looking. It was like they gave up or something. Or, maybe they thought there was no one left, because after that, I never heard of anyone else like us.”

      “No one else,” Clark wondered.

      “If you don’t mind,” she asked him, “but how did it happen to you?”

      He hesitated, and then said, “I’ve always been like this, since the day of the meteor shower.”

      Her eyes widened in surprise. “How did you stay hidden?”

      “It’s complicated,” he stammered. “And it doesn’t matter now. Somehow, they found me out.”

      Tina nodded seriously and was silent for a moment. Clark glanced at her. She had such cold, tired, sad eyes, he noticed. There were lines in her face he hadn’t noticed before either. Even if she could change her appearance with a thought, he realized, she couldn’t stop some things from leaving their mark on her.

      “You know, the safest thing for me to do would be to kill you,” she said evenly. Clark blinked and faced her. They stared each other down, sizing the other up. “I could you know, you might have surprised me before, but I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

      “So am I,” he replied.

      She touched her bruised jaw and swallowed gingerly. “That’s for sure,” she muttered under her breath. Then she frowned and raised her chin defiantly. “But it doesn’t matter how strong you are,” she told him, “they’ll find you. And you’ll tell them about me, and Whitney.”

      “I beat them once,” he remarked.

      “They won’t come after you just once,” she said sadly, “they’ll come after you as many times as it takes.”

      “Well if it comes to that, I wouldn’t tell them,” he said calmly. She smiled a little and looked away. “That doesn’t mean much, does it?” he realized.

      She shook her head. “No. But it was nice to hear.” She sighed and sat back down on the bed. “So what do we do now?” she asked.

      “That’s what we were asking before you showed up,” he admitted.

      “Alright,” she said, “then here’s the deal. We’ll help you get out of Smallville, and in return, you don’t breathe a word about us to anyone else. And you don’t come back. Ever. Just keep running, as far away from Luthorcorp as you can get. How’s that?”

      “It’s not that easy,” he told her. “I need to find out what happened here, what went wrong. This isn’t what I… it’s not….,” he hesitated. “This is my home. Even if I don’t remember it this way, I can’t just run away.”

      “Information’s tricky,” she admitted. “Whitney’s good, but… It might actually be more dangerous to go digging around than to smuggle you across the county line.”

      “I still have to try.” He looked at her helplessly. “I don’t know if you can understand.”

      “You think I stayed here because I couldn’t leave?” she asked him. “It’d be easy for me to cross the county line. I could make myself look like Lionel Luthor in a heartbeat and just march through the soldiers. It’s what I should’ve done years ago if I had a bit of sense.”

      “Why are you still here?” he asked.

      She sighed and shook her head. “That’s a long story,” she replied. “Too long to get into right now.” She closed her eyes wearily and rubbed her forehead. “Well, I guess we’d better call them back in now,” she decided finally, getting up off the bed. She started towards the door and then stopped and glanced back at him. “You won’t…” she left it hanging.

      He shook his head. “It’s your secret. And I don’t really blame you for not telling him. I’ve… I’ve got someone like that too.” She smiled a little and then set her shoulders.

      “He’s probably standing with his ear to the door,” she muttered to him. “Even if the room is soundproof.”

      “He’s not,” Clark smiled. “But he has passed by about five times already.” He shrugged self-consciously at her questioning look. “I can sort of see through walls too.”

      Tina laughed. “He’s sweet, but a wee bit over protective. Even if I could probably carry him with one hand,” she remarked. “Oh well,” she shrugged and opened the door. Clark smiled and shook his head. Then he started to mull over what she’d told him. Thinking, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out. He pulled out the meteor stone the old farmer had given him when he’d first arrived here and looked at it. It gleamed dully in his hand. He still felt strange holding it, but it was nerves, nothing more. The rock had no effect on him. He stared into it, wondering.

      “Well the place is still in one piece,” Chloe’s voice pulled him back from his thoughts. She craned her head around as she stood in the doorway. “I’m surprised. I was expecting just to find a big crater. I mean, the people two streets over are going to be picking splinters out of their grass come tomorrow.” He looked at her and shrugged, still preoccupied.

      She sat down in the rolling chair in front of the computer. “So, you want to tell me what was so important between you two?” she asked.

      “Sorry,” he said, “but it’s kind of private.” She sniffed and spun the chair away from him, grunting irritably. “Chloe,” he said, a bit annoyed, “come’ on!” She ignored him completely, not turning around. “Fine,” he shook his head. He breathed out angrily, but then he stopped himself and tried to go on more pleasantly. “Thank you though, for before. That was quick thinking.”

      “Someone had to do it,” she replied, “and you certainly weren’t up for it.”

      “Thanks,” he said dryly.

      “Clark?” He turned around to see Whitney and Tina standing there in the doorway. “She tells me you two have come to a bit of an understanding, that right?” he asked. Clark glanced at Tina and she nodded in agreement.

      “We have.”

      “Apology’s been given and accepted,” she said with a small smile.

      “Not by me,” Whitney said flatly. Then his face softened as he looked at Tina. “But I’ve learned to trust Tina. She’s usually right about these things.” Chloe snorted derisively, but no one seemed to notice.

      “I’m sorry about keeping this from you before,” Clark said to him. Whitney shrugged and waved it off.

      “I probably would’ve done the same thing. Forget about it.”

      “No, I am,” he insisted. “But maybe I can make it up to you.” He put the hunk of meteor rock on the table and stepped back. “What is that?”

      “Did you forget already?” Chloe asked, amused.

      “Just humor me,” he told her.

      “It’s a meteor rock,” Whitney said quietly, staring at it. Tina nodded slightly, studying Clark.

      “That’s what someone told me when I got this afternoon,” he corrected them. “But I don’t think it is.”

      Whitney picked up the stone, studying it closely. “How can you tell?”

      “A few ways,” Clark said delicately. Tina shot him a warning look and he nodded slightly, catching it. “It looks like one, it’s a crystal, it’s green, and I’m betting if you studied it under a microscope it would probably closely resemble one too. But there’s just critical thing missing, it’s not radioactive.”

      Whitney’s hand shook suddenly and he almost dropped the stone. Fumbling it, he blinked and looked at Clark. “The stones are radioactive?”

      “The real one’s are.” Clark turned to Chloe. “Do you remember what they were shooting at us at the Talon?” he asked her.

      Her eyes narrowed and she cocked her head. “I mostly just remember being tossed through a window like a rag doll, but I think they were lasers.”

      “Green lasers,” he corrected her. “You ever wonder why they did that? Bullets just bounce off of me; the only thing that really hurts me is the radiation from the meteor rocks. I can’t stand to even be near one.” He walked over to Whitney and took the stone from his hand. He held it tightly and then tossed it up, catching it. “But as you can see, no reaction. But there was one this afternoon, when I got shot. It didn’t last long, but it’s not the sort of thing you forget.”

      “So you’re saying they had guns designed to hurt you?” Tina asked him. Clark nodded and then the full weight of the question fell on him.

      “Not just anyone,” he muttered. “Just me.”

      “Oh, I don’t know, they did a number on the people in the crowd,” Chloe commented.

      “Sure, but if they just wanted to do that, why use lasers?” Tina argued. “A normal gun would’ve done the job.” She stared at Clark. “They must know all about you.” Clark nodded, shaken for a moment.

      “So the radiation was in the stones, but it’s now in the guns. What did they do, drain the radiation out of it?” Whitney wondered, grabbing the stone again. He held it up to the light, staring at it.

      “Yeah, like that’s going to really show you anything, Mr. Science,” Chloe snorted. He glared at her and put the stone back down on the table.

      “You said Luthorcorp gathered up all the stones, right?” Clark stepped in quickly. “But they didn’t do a very good job of it because there were still so many around.”

      “Of course,” Tina breathed out. “They weren’t collecting them, they were replacing them!” Her eyes widened in awe. “That’s why they stopped looking. Take the stones away…” she trailed off, glancing at them worriedly. Clark glanced around but Whitney and Chloe hadn’t seemed to notice.

      “But why?” Chloe asked. “Why collect them?”

      “Who knows,” Tina shrugged, looking at Whitney. “I guess we could always ask though.” He snorted and nodded. Then he grew serious and nodded, looking at Clark.

      “Since we’re coming clean now, I think I can help you with something.” Clark looked up at him, his eyes narrowing. “Or maybe you can help me with something,” he corrected himself. He walked over to the computer and then glanced down at Chloe shortly. She sat there in his chair, not budging. “You mind?” he asked. She smiled and pushed the chair away, rolling to the side of the room. He stared after her and then sighed, taking another chair and setting it in place in front of the computers.

      “Whitney, what is it?” Tina asked, looking confused.

      “I never told you his last name, did I?” he asked. “Tina, meet Clark Kent,” he emphasized the last name. She stared uncomprehendingly, and then her eyes lit up and her mouth hung open.

      “Kent, as in…”

      “Kent farm, outside of town,” Whitney agreed. He stared to type quickly.

      “Wait, what is this?” Clark spoke up. “I thought you didn’t know anything about that?”

      “I lied,” Whitney shrugged. “Well, not really. I don’t know anything concrete about the place. I’ve just got a whole bunch of suspicions and unanswered questions.” He pulled up a file and turned in his chair, motioning for Clark to step closer. He did, slowly though, his stomach sending an icy chill through the rest of his body. Something was wrong, he could feel it.

      “Luthorcorp owns about sixty percent of the property outside of town. It doesn’t do a hell of a lot with it, just puts up ‘no trespassing’ signs and fences. They buy up the rights and then just bulldoze all the houses down. They chased a lot of good families off their land and then they don’t even do anything with it. All except for one area.” He brought up a map of Smallville on the screen and circled a bit of land with his mouse. It was an area Clark knew well.

      “It’s kinda curious, don’t you think? They tear down all the houses except for one: the Kent farm. This one they don’t touch, they leave everything in fact, right down to the rotting fences. It was one of the first ones they bought as a matter of fact; right after Red Tuesday.”

      “How’d you find out about this?” Chloe asked curiously. She craned her head up to see the screen.

      “Someone tipped me off to it. It’s not easy to notice, they’ve done everything to hide it by just pretending there’s nothing special about the place.” Chloe looked confused and he went on. “You’ve got something you want to hide, right? What do you do; ring it with barbed wire, armed guards, and hi-tech surveillance, or do you leave it out in the open, hidden along with all the other farms you own?”

      “It still doesn’t mean anything,” she pointed out. “They could’ve just forgotten about it.”

      “Not when the property is solely owned by one Lionel Luthor. Not Luthorcorp, not a dummy corporation, but Lionel himself.”

      “Maybe it’s a summer home,” she shrugged.

      “What about the family?” Clark heard himself ask. He felt like he was standing outside his own body, listening to all this. They all looked up at him. “What happened to the Kents?!” he almost screamed.

      “The farm was put up for sale after Red Tuesday,” Whitney told him quietly. “A lot of places were… vacated that day.” Clark stared at him, feeling his eyes tightened and dry up. “I did some digging, checked out police reports, old newspaper clippings, that sort of thing. Jonathon and Martha Kent were driving home from town during the meteor shower. There had been a big festival that morning; practically the whole town had been there. They were about a mile from their home when a large meteorite came down in front of them. The police reports that day were all rushed and incomplete, but they did manage to identify the bodies.”

      Clark heard him say it clearly, but for some reason his brain refused to process it. He shook his head slowly, feeling something start to burn deep in his chest. “What… That’s not what happened!” he choked out.

      “It is,” Whitney said reluctantly. He pulled up another file on the screen and moved aside so he could see better. Clark stumbled over to the monitor and gripped the sides of the desk, reading. The column was small, hardly more than an inch, one of many sandwiched into a horribly, large obituary section. They’d saved on space by resizing a photograph of both his parents into the space above the column. Due to the resizing it was almost impossible to make out any details, but Clark knew what it looked like. That very picture rested on their mantle, a snapshot of his parents just before their marriage. He’d seen it everyday of his life as he’d passed by the living room, their smiling, joyous faces, the glow on his mother’s cheeks, and the bashful, youthful, twinkle in his father’s eyes. And now it was over their obituary. Chunks of wood in the desk snapped off, unnoticed, as he gripped it tighter.

      “Clark…” Chloe said gently, trying to bring him back.

      “Where are they?” he asked. “Where are they now?” he repeated, throwing the broken pieces of the desk aside.

      “They were buried there,” Whitney said. He turned back to the computer and highlighted a section of the text. “It says they were interred in a family plot at the farm-“ he was cut off by a gust of wind that knocked him out of his chair. Tina fell back with a cry and Chloe’s chair was thrown back against the wall fiercely. Chloe cried out as she hit her head against the wall as the chair struck it.

      “Ow!” she yelled, touching the back of her head gingerly. Then she touched her mouth and winced. “I bit my tongue,” she mumbled.

      “What happened?” Tina moaned from the floor. She groaned and stood up, rubbing her elbow.

      Whitney climbed to his knees, trying to clear his head. “I don’t know,” he mumbled.

      “Where’s Clark?” Chloe suddenly asked, staring around the room. They all looked up, glancing around. He was gone. Behind them, the door to the room swung wildly on one hinge and then fell off with a crash.

      “He did it again!” Whitney cried out. “Can’t he just open it first?”

      “Whitney!” Tina yelled. “Forget about that. We need to find him. They’re still looking for him.”

      “Well, I guess we know where he’s going,” Chloe spoke up. She looked back at the obituary on the computer screen. “Home.”
      Last edited by Bulbus; 09-08-2003, 02:42 PM.

      Comment


      • #4
        Whoa. Wow. This is some amazing stuff! Way to go, and keep up the incredible work -- my eyes are bloodshot from trying to read this entire thing in one shot! Whew! Very intense stuff, and I love the Chlark conversations.

        --Jeff ><>' --

        Comment


        • #5
          Try posting it all in one sitting! No, I haven't done that, just trying to get up everything I've got in one day. Thanks for the input though.

          Chapter 14

          The house loomed in front of him, as hollow and foreboding as a grave. The roof was sagging and rotted out. Only a few shingles spotted haphazardly on it even suggested that it had once been properly looked after. The windows were all blown out, letting tattered, faded curtains tumble in and out with the wind. One of his mother’s shutters hung wildly by a single hinge. The paint had run on it, leaving an ugly stain, like an old scar, down the side of the wall. He could hear the rusty hinge screech as the wind moved the shutter slightly. Behind him, the morning sun was just starting to peak over the edge of the forest, behind the weed-choked fields. He shivered in spite of the warmth it brought with it.

          He’d run all through the night to get here. Sick with worry and confusion, half-blinded by tears, and overwhelmed by everything around him, he’d stumbled through the darkness, barely conscious of where he was sometimes. It was a small miracle that he had made it without alerting half of Luthorcorp. He’d gotten lost now and then, turned around on a road that went somewhere different than where he remembered, but eventually he’d found his way here. He was home.

          Clark turned around and stumbled down the driveway. Seeing something in the tall weeds, he diverted from his path. Bending down, he picked up a wooden post, half rotted through. He noticed something else by it, and picked up a rusted out mailbox. Turning it over, he saw that only the first letter of the name, “Kent”, remained on its side. He tossed it aside sadly and looked back at his parent’s house.

          There was hardly anything left of it now. He’d grown up in this house. He could see the old tree where his father had started to build him a tree house. That was, of course, until he had discovered just how much higher the fort was than when you were looking at it from the ground. But there was no fort in the branches now, not even much of a tree left at that. It was leaning wildly away from the house, its roots half exposed by erosion. Not even the planks his father had nailed into the truck as a ladder remained.

          He turned away and glanced at the house. There was the porch that had collapsed on them three years ago. His father and mother had made a project out of it, measuring out beams, thinking up new designs, discarding old ones, until finally they’d just repaired the first one, the same as before. But here it was, ruined again, or for the first time here, he thought. He gently traced the broken edges with his fingers. No one had been around to ever fix it this time.

          Steeling himself, he stepped over the remains of the porch and front stoop and pulled himself up into the doorway. He took a moment to test the floor, hearing it snap and groan under his feet. It seemed sturdy enough though, and so he ventured a little further in.

          He was a little surprised and saddened to see that a lot was like he remembered. It might have been easier, he realized, if everything was different. It would have seemed less real, less personal. But everything was painfully familiar. There was the same couch his parents had had forever it seemed, musty smelling and water-damaged, but still recognizable. There were no pictures on the mantle, but it didn’t take much to imagine them there. Or to see a log burning in the fireplace, and his father sitting in his chair, happily listening to it pop and crackle. He stepped into the kitchen and stared around. One of the cabinets that hung on the wall had broken open and spilled out his mother’s dishes everywhere. He picked up one of the pieces and brushed it off with his hand, noting the familiar design. He’d eaten off them just yesterday morning, or so it seemed. He set it back on the counter and shifted his way through the rubble aimlessly. There was nothing else however, and he stood up slowly, swaying slightly.

          How long had it been since he’d slept, he wondered. Yesterday, the night before that? He felt drained, mentally and physically exhausted. He needed to rest. Maybe he could go to sleep and this would all be gone when he woke up. Like a bad dream.

          Glancing through the kitchen window, he stared out at the northwest corner of the lawn, adjacent to the overgrown fields. It was the one place that he’d never been near much growing up. The farm had been in the Kent family for generations, and many of them had chosen to be buried on the same land where they’d lived and worked. That spot had been the Kent family cemetery, and for all his powers and strength, he had not been able to go near it. Not then, and not now. Certainly not now.

          There were two new grave stones in that small plot of land. He could see them clearly through the window. They stood side by side in the back of the plot. Behind them, he could see the fields ripple slightly in the wind. “This isn’t any bad dream,” he muttered to himself. Then he turned his back on them and went back to inspecting the house.

          There wasn’t much left to see though. The floorboards in the front room creaked dangerously as soon as he put one foot down on them. He prodded another with his toe and it broke into pieces. He stared into the room fruitlessly and then went back. The stairway had collapsed years ago by the look of it and there was no going upstairs. Not that there would have been anything for him to find, he thought to himself. Not his room, that was for certain. His parent’s hadn’t lived to see him. They’d been in the wrong time and the wrong place in the meteor crash, like so many others. He stopped in the front hall and stared at a picture of his parents on the wall. It was old, probably taken just a few weeks after they’d been married. They both were smiling and looked so happy. Touching it gently, he traced his mother’s smile Or maybe it hadn’t been them who’d been in the wrong place, a small voice spoke up in his mind. Maybe it had been him. Maybe he’d been in the wrong place or at the wrong time, that voice went on. It could have been that, or any countless other things. There might be no way to ever know what had gone wrong. What had changed so many things here. He snarled and smashed his fist out against the wall, smashing through the weak boards beside the picture frame. He held it there for a moment and then pulled it back, his fist covered with white dust.

          Maybe there was no way of knowing. Anything could have gone wrong that day. Maybe his parent’s had taken a detour and gone on another road. Maybe his ship had been off course. Maybe the meteor rocks had fallen in a different pattern. Or maybe it was something else, some little thing that he’d never think about. It could be anything, anything. His parents could be dead because they were going a little faster than they should’ve been. Or their car had been running slow. Or the winds had shifted a bit that day. His parents could be dead because there had been a thunderstorm that day instead of clear skies. Any stupid, pointless thing could have been the cause for all of this. Clark felt something tighten up in his chest and then he screamed, letting it tear out of him. He smashed his fists into the wall, hitting it with reckless abandon, crying, screaming, all the while. Loose timber and plaster exploded out with every hit, leaving gaping holes behind. The picture danced wildly as he punched around it, until it finally fell with a crash, the glass frame shattering. Then the wall, and part of the ceiling above Clark, gave out, collapsing around and on top of him. Timber, brick, and plaster bounced off his body as he screamed, smashing through the last of the wall. Then he collapsed to his knees, his anger spent.

          Clark knelt there in the rubble, his chest heaving. He was covered in dust and fine, white plaster, but he hardly noticed. He stared at his fists and then eased them open, forcing his fingers too unclench. This wasn’t helping anyone, he thought. Breathing deeply, he stood up, the larger pieces of rubble falling off of him. He stepped through the pile of debris and forced the front door open, the lock breaking as it swung outward. For a moment, he was frozen there as he remembered doing the same thing years ago, when he was still learning to control his strength. He could still hear his father’s warnings echo back to him. He glanced down at it for a moment and then looked back at the wreckage inside. You can’t put things back when they’re broken; his father had told him then. He was right.

          Turning his back on the house, he stepped over the rotten front porch and into the yard. A little unsteady on his feet, he stood there aimlessly in the morning sun. There was nothing left for him here. He should get back to Chloe and the others, he told himself. But there was one last thing he needed to do just yet.

          His feet led him slowly to the edge of the farm, away from the house and towards the fields. He kept going past the rusted out wreck of their tractor until he came to the tiny plot of land by the fence. Clark stood there silently, in front of the tiny gate. The wind blew past him for a moment, making the gate creak and shudder on its hinges. Unlatching it, he stepped inside, passing the older graves to the two newest ones in the back. The lettering was a bit weathered, but he knew who was buried there.

          Kneeling, he touched his parent’s graves; first one then the other. He wanted to say something, anything to them, but the words wouldn’t come. He sniffed suddenly, choking back tears. This couldn’t be real, he told himself, lamely. This world, all of it was just some nightmare; that was all. It wasn’t real. He touched the stones again, wishing they’d just dissolve underneath his fingers and he could wake up, but they remained firm and solid. “NO!” he screamed and clutching it desperately. The stone he was holding broke in two from his grip, hitting the ground. Clark backed up in shock, staring at the broken headstone. “No,” he whispered again. He could read part of his father’s name on it. He shut his eyes tightly and turned away, then looked back fiercely. He had to know. Clark focused his x-ray vision into the ground and waited, watching the earth melt away as he saw deeper.

          A moment ticked by as he stood there, staring down. Then he slowly closed his eyes and turned away. He walked back slowly to the gate and leaned down on it, his head hung low. Then he couldn’t control himself any longer and he threw up over the side.

          When he was done he stood there, leaning against the fence, his arms quivering. He blinked away the sweat and tears in his eyes, trying to clear his vision without much success. His parents were dead, he thought to himself. They were gone and he was all alone here. For a moment, he wondered if he was stuck here for good. He hadn’t been able to even say goodbye. The last time he’d seen them, they’d been arguing. Was that it?

          “No,” he told himself firmly. His voice shook, but he repeated himself, spitting to clear his mouth. “No. You will find a way home and you won’t give up.” He pushed himself off of the gate and stumbled towards the house again. His vision blurred over, but he kept going. “You won’t give up. You’ll find a way. There’s always a way.” His voice died out and he stood there, swaying on his feet. Dimly, he remembered a platitude his father used to say.

          “Just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other,” he wheezed. He brought one foot forwards, but his whole body seemed to come with it. He collapsed in a heap and lay there in the morning sunlight, completely unconscious.

          Chapter 15

          Clark was floating somewhere warm and comforting. He opened his eyes slowly, but all he could see was white light stretching out in front of him. He floated alone, supported by nothing at all. Dimly, he realized that there was something wrong with this, but he couldn’t bring himself to resist it. He felt like he was being wrapped up in a soft blanket and rocked to sleep. His whole body seemed to melt and fall deeper into it. Somewhere nearby, he could hear a woman’s voice singing softly. It was gentle and very kind, but also sad. He almost felt like he should remember it.

          There was no way of telling how long he hung there in the bright light, listening to her sing. All the he knew was the suddenly the song cut off, her voice echoing around him in the silence. Clark blinked, coming more awake, not wanting the song to stop. Then he froze, as the light started to tremble around him. It flickered and shook briefly, then was still. He hung there, waiting. Gently, a piece of the light detached and moved towards him. He didn’t flinch away, watching it come closer. It stopped an inch from his face, and seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then it reached out to stroke his cheek, forming into a hand as it touched his skin. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen; delicately formed and glowing with the same brilliant light. He blinked in wonderment as it caressed his face.

          Slowly, he reached up and touched the hand, feeling the smooth warmth of the skin. As he did, light within it grew brighter and brighter. All around him, the light intensified as well. Shielding his eyes, he looked up and saw a face staring back at him through the brightness. Almost blinded by the light, he tried to reach out for it with no avail. When he tried to call out, he found that his voice didn’t make any sound. The light was too intense now for even his eyes to stand. He threw up his arms over his face and cried out silently.

          “Wake up now,” a voice called out to him. It was the same voice he’d heard singing before. He peered out through a gap in his arms, but all he could see was the light. “Wake up and find me,” it said again. “I know you will. You always do.” Clark reached out blindly, trying to catch hold of the speaker but could not. Then his whole body went stiff as he felt it touch him right on the forehead. He struggled vainly, but his muscles were frozen in place.

          “You’re the only one who can,” it whispered in his ears. “Only you. It’s not enough that the others have the power, only you can make things right. It’s what you were born to do.” He listened, floating there immobile. “Now wake up,” it commanded him one last time. Something passed through its touch and into him, rocking him like a bolt of lightening. He flew backwards, out of the light and seemed to fall far away.

          *****
          Clark opened his eyes and all he could see was someone’s face; upside down and staring at him intently. Confused and startled, he cried out and thrashed on the ground. The face vanished and he heard a girl cry out close by and then someone was grabbing him, holding him down. It was a girl with tight looking face and long brown hair. He struggled against her as she hissed at him, “Clark! Clark, it’s us, calm down!”

          It took a moment for him to recognize her. “Tina?” he asked slowly, no longer fighting her. She nodded, relieved, and let go of him. Confused, he looked around quickly. “I’m still on the farm.” He looked up at the sky and guessed that he had only been asleep for a few hours.

          “Where did you expect to be?” Tina looked tired, but relieved to see him. She was wearing a pair of faded old jeans and what looked like a military jacket over a t-shirt. Falling back onto the ground, she smiled. “Thank God you stopped struggling. I don’t think I could have held you much longer.”

          “What the hell was that for anyways?” Chloe asked him suddenly. Looking around, Clark spotted her lying a few feet away, rubbing her elbows gingerly. “You almost scared me to death, you big, dumb, bastard! Not to mention knocking me over.”

          Not even that was enough to stop him from smiling. “Just happy to see you,” he told her. She rolled her eyes disgustedly, but he thought he saw her grin back quickly.

          “Seriously, are you alright?” Tina asked him, concerned.

          Clark frowned and looked down. “Just some bad dreams,” he told her. She glanced around the farm and nodded sympathetically. He wasn’t sure he even knew what he had dreamed yet. Telling them about it would only worry them needlessly.

          Standing up, Chloe brushed herself off and extended her arm to him. He took it and stood up, towering over her as he always did. “Are you going to run off like that again?” she asked him. She hadn’t let go of his hand yet. Tina looked away, smiling to herself.

          He looked at her and then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

          “Good.” She let go of his hand and turned around, glancing around the farm. There was an uncomfortable bit of silence as she looked around. “Nice place,” she commented finally. “If it wasn’t for everything else, I mean.”

          “It was a lot better once,” he told her, looking around as well. He glanced back at the gravesite unconsciously. The broken edge of the tombstone was clearly noticeable.

          “Is that where…” she started and he nodded quickly. She looked around uncomfortably and tilted her head. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Clark nodded again and didn’t say anything. “We guessed that was why you ran off. Sorry that there’s not much for you to come home to though.”

          “No, there is,” he broke in. Tina and Chloe both looked up at him. “This just isn’t it.” Tina looked confused, but Chloe seemed to understand. Sighing, Clark shook his head and looked around. “So how did you get out here?” he asked.

          “Whitney drove us,” Tina said. “We had to take a few back roads to avoid some roadblocks.”

          “And backroads in Smallville,” Chloe added, “just as bad as they sound. I thought the truck was going to shake to pieces a few times.”

          “We’ve used them a few times,” she shrugged in response. “You’re lucky it wasn’t raining.”

          “Lucky for you, I wasn’t going to push that pile of junk.”

          “Where’s Whitney,” Clark broke in, looking around.

          Chloe shrugged. “Parking the truck.”

          “Hiding the truck,” Tina snapped back at her.

          “Then why is it right there,” she pointed to the side. They all turned and looked as a Ford truck came tearing around the corner. Whitney was behind the wheel and waving at them frantically. The car came to a skidding halt and Whitney was running towards them almost before it had even come to a stop.

          “Get inside, get inside!” he yelled at them.

          They stared at him in shock. “What is it?” Tina yelled.

          “Luthorcorp,” he gasped, stumbling to a stop. He bent down, holding his knees and breathing heavily. Tina held his shoulders, behind down next to him. “There’s a whole line of cars coming down the road,” he said between pants. “They already saw the car when I was parking it. They know we’re here.”

          Chapter 16

          “Didn’t we already do this?” Chloe exclaimed. “I thought you said you could get us here without being seen?”

          “I thought we did,” Tina said, looking alarmed. “We took the back roads, bypassed the checkpoints, cut across a few fields-” She stopped and hesitated. “Maybe we missed something.”

          “Checkpoints?” Clark spoke up, confused. They all looked up at slowly, even Whitney who was still bent over, trying to catch his breath. “I mean, yeah, checkpoints,” he went on quickly. “Um… how long have they had those?”

          “Maybe we weren’t the ones to set them off,” Tina remarked quietly.

          “We don’t time to pass the blame around,” Whitney said, straightening up.

          “Who’s passing?” Chloe asked. She pointed at Clark. “There’s no passing the blame, it’s all right there.”

          “Thanks for coming, Chloe,” he remarked.

          She smiled in response. “Anytime.”

          “If we’re all done here, I propose we run,” Tina said. She started around the side of the car and opened the door. Clark hurried and opened the passenger side.

          “There’s an old road that my dad used to take into town,” he said. “We can cut across the back field to get to it. It’s pretty rough, but it’ll keep us off the main roads.”

          “And that’ll keep them from catching us for about ten more minutes,” Whitney breathed. They all looked at him and he snarled, “My truck’s unreliable at best. If I can get it past fifty it’s a good day. No way are we going to outrun anyone.”

          “Then we hide,” Tina said quickly. “We can hide out in the woods or the barn. Then we can make a break for it when it’s safe.”

          Clark looked across the fields to the forest. If they could reach it, they could hide out like before, but he didn’t like their chances of doing it. The forest was good distance off, and the weed choked fields they’d have to cross wouldn’t provide much cover. “They’ll see us when we cross the field,” he told them, “but there’s probably no avoiding it. We’ll have a better chance of loosing them in there than anywhere else.”

          “What if they start shooting as we’re crossing the field?” Chloe asked.

          “We’ll have to chance it.”

          “Hey, some of us aren’t bullet proof here,” she exclaimed.

          “Chloe, I don’t want you to get shot either, but there’s no other choice!”

          “Yes, there is,” Whitney spoke up. “They already saw me moving the truck. They know someone’s here already. If we run, they’ll shoot; if we hide, they’ll find us. But not if they’ve already got someone.”

          Tina stared at him in horror. “No, no! You can’t be thinking...”

          “It’s the only way. The rest of you can hide out in the barn while I distract them.” He saw the look on Tina’s face and he closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Please, just do it now.”

          “We’re not leaving you to them,” Tina exploded. “We’ll chance the forest,” she said turning around.

          “They’re picking up speed,” Clark warned them all suddenly. He stared out through the barn at the dirt road leading up to the farm. “If we’re going to run, we’ll have to do it now.”

          “My way is safer,” Whitney yelled at Tina. “If you try and cross the field, who knows what’s going to happen. Clark might make it, but what about you and Chloe? We can’t chance it.”

          “It’s not safer for you!” Tina pleaded. “I’m not letting you do this!”

          “She’s right, maybe there’s a better way,” Clark said. “I’m the only one they’re really after. If I let them find me, I can lead them away from here.”

          “And what if they catch you?” Chloe asked, going pale.

          “They won’t,” he said firmly, trying to reassure her.

          “But there’s a chance they will,” Whitney told him. “We can’t risk losing you.”

          “But we can lose you?” Clark turned to stare at him incredulously. “I’m not worth that!”

          “Yes, you are,” Whitney told him seriously. “If we lose you, we’ll lose our best chance of hurting Luthorcorp, I can feel it. Maybe you’re even the key to bringing them down entirely. Why else would they want you so badly?” Clark was speechless at that.

          Tina was not though. “But why does it have to be you then?” she demanded. “Chloe or I could do it. We need you too.”

          “Hold on there. No way am I doing it,” Chloe shook her head. She raised her hands defensively as everyone glared at her. “Hey, I’m all for an escape plan now, but not one that involves me being the martyr.”

          “Don’t worry, we weren’t asking,” Whitney told her dryly. Then he looked at Tina and his voice softened. “It can’t be you anyways, Chloe,” he said, not looking at her. “They’ve already linked you and Clark together. If they find you, they’ll know he’s here.”

          “What about me?” Tina asked. “Why can’t it be me?”

          “Because it’s not going to be you,” he told her quietly. “I don’t want it to be.” She winced, her mouth open to say something else, but he stepped towards her and silenced her with a quick, strong kiss. Clark looked away quickly, checking the progress of the caravan. What he saw didn’t improve matters any.

          “They’re almost here,” he said quickly. “Whatever we decide, it has to be now.”

          “We’re decided,” Whitney told him, pulling back from Tina. He stepped towards them, waving at the barn. “Can you hide out in there?”

          “Yeah, there are few places I know about,” Clark nodded. “We should be fine.” He looked past Whitney, staring at Tina. She was as white as a sheet and he could see tears in her eyes, but her mouth was pressed together in a firm line. She looked up at him, and there was something in her eyes that made him stop, a kind of wild desperation. Then her arm came up and she struck Whitney across the back of his neck sharply. He cried out and started to collapse as Clark jumped forwards and caught him.

          He gaped at Whitney’s unconscious face and then looked up at Tina. She stared back at him with the same wild look, her throat moving up and down like she choking back sobs.

          “What the hell was that for?” Chloe yelled, bending over Whitney.

          “I told him I wouldn’t let him do it,” Tina said quietly, almost sounding detached. Clark thought for a moment and then nodded at her. He hefted Whitney over his shoulder and straightened up.

          “You’ll have to distract them somehow,” he told her. She didn’t seem to hear him, and he touched her shoulder, getting her attention. “Do you still want to do this? We can still try and make a break for it.”

          “No…. No,” She shook her head slowly. “They’re too close, I can hear them. Besides, if anyone can turn them away, I can.” Looking up at him, she hesitated. “If anything happens, don’t tell him about me,” she pleaded.

          “Don’t think like that,” he told her firmly. “We’ll make it.”

          She didn’t seem very hopeful though. “If we do, he’ll have questions,” she said quietly. “What happens then?” Clark couldn’t think of what to say to that.

          “Clark, come’ on!” Chloe called out. She nodded towards the barn nervously.

          Hefting Whitney again, he nodded and looked at Tina again. “If he does,” he said, “we’ll just have to answer them.” She frowned and looked away. “We’ll find a way,” he promised. Then, the sound of the Luthorcorp caravan pounding in his ears, he turned and ran towards the barn with Chloe close behind him.

          The barn stood at the corner of the farm, the largest of all the buildings. It wasn’t in as bad condition as the others, a testament to the care and effort generations of Kents had put into its construction. Clark pulled the barn door open with one hand, the other steadying Whitney on his shoulder. Chloe ran through the opening and Clark followed after her, pausing to glance back at Tina. She was standing by the truck, watching them go. As she saw him looking, she nodded and turned to face the other end of the farm, where the dirt road ended.

          “Clark!” Chloe’s voice called him back. He glanced back at her and nodded slightly, and then he pulled the door shut behind them. Forcing himself onwards, he carried Whitney to the back of the barn where Chloe was crouching.

          “Why did she do that?” she asked him, looking confused.

          “Because she could,” he told her quietly. “And because she could, she had to.” She blinked in confusion, but he waved her questions away. “We don’t have much time left.” He led her straight away to a corner of the barn that was stacked with tools and other rusted bits of tractors and mowers. Bending down, he scanned the floor boards intently and then smiled and pried up the corner of one plank in particular. It came away easily, revealing a handle stuck the floor. As he pulled it up, more boards came with it, revealing a hidden cellar door.

          “Neat,” Chloe said quietly, staring down into it. “I didn’t know most farms came with those.”

          “Most don’t,” he grunted, shifting Whitney around on his shoulders and looking down into the hidden cellar. “Apparently, I had a great-grandfather who used to run a distillery on the farm during Prohibition. He built this to hide it when people started nosing around. We use it to hide my ship on the farm.” He nodded to her quickly. “There’s stairs, but I don’t know if I’d trust them after all this time. You better go first; I can help you down and then lower Whitney to you.”

          Chloe nodded and sat down on the edge of the cellar, taking his hand. Slowly and carefully, she eased over the edge and he started to lower her down. She suddenly blanched and wrinkled up her face. “What’s that smell?” she asked, gagging.

          “Bat guano,” he remarked. Her eyes rolled a little wildly, but she forced a grin on her face. He smiled at her quickly and felt her touch the bottom. Letting go, he took Whitney by the shoulders and slowly lowered him down into the cellar as well. He could hear the trucks outside the barn now. They were almost right on top of them. Unable to wait, he dropped Whitney the last few feet and then scrambled in after him, pulling the door shut behind them. Strangely, he thought of Bruce for a moment as he dropped down into the fetid cellar. Then the door slammed shut above him and everything was silent.


          “Come’ on,” Tina hissed at herself, standing alone as the others ran off. “What are you scared off? You knew this would happen one day. It’s not like you haven’t had plenty of time to get used to it.” Her voice was the only thing brave about her. She knew if she could move her legs, she’d be running right now. Every fiber of her being, every survival instinct she’d ever honed to survive here, was screaming at her to run before she was discovered. Instead, she stood as if rooted to the ground, listening to the sound of the cars get closer and closer.

          This isn’t going to work, a part of her screamed desperately. This isn’t going to work, you’ll going to get caught and put in a cage and poked and prodded and cut up till there’s nothing left of you- Shaking her head, she tried to shut the voice up, but it was impossible to ignore it. It was, after all, the voice of her mother talking to her.

          “Shut up, shut up,” she told herself. “This is going to work. I’m going to get out of here and I’ll find Whitney and everything will be better, you’ll see.” Her mother’s voice receded a little, but she could still hear it, humming away worriedly in the back of her mind. “I can do this,” she said again. “I can.” Her voice quaked in her throat as she repeated it.

          The cars were getting close now. She could hear them rumbling just past the bend in the road. They’d be within sight in moments. “Better get ready,” she muttered, drying her hands against her sides. Quickly, she stripped, and threw her clothes into the bottom of the truck, and then stood naked in the middle of the farm. With effort, she closed her eyes and concentrated, frowning intensely. It had been a long time since she’d used her powers, but the change came almost instantaneously. Her skin writhed and started to shift, flowing over her growing bones. She could feel her hair grow out of her scalp, changing color and texture. Concentrating, she forced her skin to change composition and form into a suit, duplicating the texture and feel of the cloth. Other changes happened as well, all over her body. It had taken a bit of time to get used to those sort of changes, she didn’t feel comfortable in a man’s body, but she’d grown used to it eventually. When it was done, Tina Greer was gone, in her place stood a tall, craggy looking man in an impeccable suit. His red, wavy hair flowed wildly behind him. Lionel Luthor stood in the young girl’s place.

          She flexed her mouth gingerly, moving her head side to side and cracking her neck. “There,” she said experimentally, judging the quality of her new voice and finding it satisfactory. She brushed off his suit and readied herself, staring out over the farm. Trying to smile, she kept her nerves tightly contained, waiting.

          The first of the cars rumbled around the bend and into the farm. They were all dark gray and looked cruelly powerful. The windows were tinted like mirrors, keeping her from seeing inside. They all bore the swept back Luthor Corps insignia. The first cars circled the farmyard and screeched to a halt, and soldiers poured out, standing at attention. She smiled and nodded to them genially, but they didn’t respond. Then the rest of the cars poured into the yard.

          Her smile started to falter as they kept coming. Whitney had looked frightened when he’d warned them, but she’d assumed it had been just shock. After a minute’s time, the cars were still coming. They eventually ran out of room in the yard, and the last cars rumbled to a stop outside the gate. There was silence for a moment as she stood there, smiling nervously at them. “Very good,” she said to them in Lionel’s voice. “Very good.”

          None of the soldier’s responded. This isn’t going to work, we should have run, her mother’s voice moaned at her quietly. Glancing around, she started feel the sweat trickle down the back of her neck. “Who’s in charge here?” she asked after a moment, smiling.

          In response, one of the cars parked in the center of the farm yard opened its doors. She turned to it, but instead of the grizzled commander she’d been expecting, a young girl stepped out of the car. Tina felt a shock go through her as she stared at her. The girl had short, black hair and an almost exotic cast to her face. She was also wearing a Luthor Corps uniform. She stared at Tina coldly, waiting.

          Flustered, Tina tried to recover herself. “Explain yourself, soldier,” she demanded. The girl raised one of her eyebrows slightly, and then looked inside the cab of the car she was standing besides for a moment. Then she nodded and looked back at Tina. In one clean movement, she swung a small gun up and aimed it at Tina.

          “Wait!” she said, throwing her hands up. The girl fired at her and a green bolt of light streaked towards her. It blasted against her shoulder and threw her backwards in a spin. She tumbled roughly and then lay there, stunned. Slowly, she pulled herself up, almost blinded by the pain racking her body. Her shoulder was bleeding heavily, the skin charred and blackened around the blast mark. Covering her shoulder gingerly, she stared up at the girl. She still had the gun leveled at her.

          “What are you doing?” she rasped. “Don’t you know who I am?”

          The other car door opened on the other side of the girl. A tall, lanky man stepped out, staring at Tina coldly. His red, wavy mane of hair whipped behind him wildly in the wind. She stared at him, feeling the last shred of hope die in her stomach.

          Lionel Luthor walked over to her and knelt down beside her. The girl followed after him, and got down on one knee by her head. She pressed the barrel of that strange gun she’d shot her with against her head and waited, her mouth a tight, thin line. Lionel smiled at her snidely and tilted his head, studying her. “That my friend,” he said, “is exactly what we were wondering.”

          Chapter 17

          Clark and Chloe had been waiting in silence in the darkened cellar. They could hear the cars rumble into the yard and then everything became quiet. Whitney lay on the floor in a heap, still unconscious. Chloe squatted nervously on the ground, chewing her lip quietly. Clark stood staring upwards, watching everything unfold with his x-ray vision. It was hard to tell what was going on though. He could hear the sounds from the yard easily, even in the cellar, but no one was speaking now. Picking out people was almost impossible as well. He could spot Tina easily enough, the green glow from her body marking her no matter what she looked like, but everyone else was just a random skeleton. The only thing he could tell was that there were a lot of soldiers up there. A lot of them.

          “What’s going on?” Chloe whispered to him. He glanced away and shook his head. “Can’t you tell?” she asked, but he turned away, hearing someone say something. It hadn’t sounded like Tina, but the voice had still been familiar. “What is it?” Chloe asked again, but he hushed her with a quick wave of his hand. “I can’t stand this,” she muttered to herself quietly.

          “Be quiet,” he hissed at her, looking away. “I can’t hear anything if you’re-“ and suddenly they could both hear the unmistakable sound of a shot being fired from outside. Chloe was up in a flash, standing next to him, as he spun around, staring through the walls and ceiling to see what was going on. Tina was down, lying prone at the feet of two other figures. For a moment, he feared the worst, but then he saw her move slightly, alive, but clearly injured.

          “What happened?” Chloe asked into his ear, her voice no more than a whisper. “Did they…”

          “They shot her,” he said grimly, “but she’s still alive. Something must have gone wrong.”

          “Gee, what tipped you off?” she asked, her voice strained.

          He ignored her and stared around, trying to think. There was no way they could just leave her out there. He looked outside again and then turned around, staring around the farm, searching for an idea. “You have to stay here,” he said finally. “I’m going out.”

          “To do what? Get shot too?”

          “It’s my fault she’s out there,” he snapped at her. “You guys came for me; I led you all into this.” He reached up and started to push against the trapdoor.

          “We chose to come after you,” she said, grabbing his arm. “We knew what might happen. And remember what Whitney said? You’re too important to lose. Don’t do this,” she pleaded with him.

          “Yeah, well, he also said he’d be the one out there and look how that turned out,” Clark said, turning away from her. “This is my home, I should’ve been the one out there,” he muttered angrily. He opened the trapdoor a bit and got ready to pull himself up.

          “Clark, if you go out there, I’m coming after you,” Chloe said firmly, making him stop. He blinked and stared at her, letting the trapdoor fall shut. She stood there resolutely, daring him.

          “I thought you were against being the martyr,” he said quietly. She shrugged and lifted her chin. “I can’t protect you out there.”

          “Don’t need it,” she shrugged. “I know how to take care of myself.”

          “Not against them,” he said. “Chloe, I can’t leave her out there, and you’ll just get in my way if you come after me.” She didn’t move. He stared upwards, looking through the boards again. “Chloe, we don’t have time for this, stay here!”

          “No,” she said. “If you go out there I’m coming after you.” He stared at her for a long moment and then shook his head, his breath whistling out in irritation.

          “Fine, but for God’s sake, stay out of sight.” She blinked and then nodded quickly, going a little pale. He pointed to Whitney, still unconscious on the floor. “What about Whitney?”

          “He’ll be safe in here,” she told him, glancing back at Whitney. Clark looked at her sadly and pushed open the trapdoor, moving as fast as possible. The rest of the world seemed to be moving by at a snail’s pace as he leapt out of the cellar and landed lightly on the barn floor. He slammed the trapdoor shut and replaced the boards so that it was hidden again. Then for good measure, he pulled a heavy crate of tools over on top of the door. It would take her only a few seconds to notice that he was gone, but it would already be too late.

          “Sorry, Chloe,” he muttered. Then he glanced up and sped outside, circling around the farm buildings. Even moving this quickly, he tried to keep himself out of sight of the massed troops. He paused behind an old cow shed and watched them through the slats.

          He said a thankful prayer as he saw Tina was still alive. She was surrounded by troops though, and they all appeared to be carrying the same time of meteor rock powered guns. He hesitated, thinking quickly. There were too many to risk just charging in. He could grab Tina, but he’d never be able to pick-up Chloe and Whitney without being discovered. He’d have to watch and wait for an opportunity.

          “I’m growing impatient, Lana,” Lionel growled. He chewed on fist, staring at the man lying wounded on the ground. “If you can’t find out anything, then we can take him back to the labs to perform a more thorough interrogation.” Lana looked up and nodded quickly.

          “We’re almost there, sir,” she promised. “I can do this, I just need a little more time.” He grunted irritably, but signaled for her to continue. She turned around and bent down over the wounded man. He flinched away from her, but she quickly grabbed his shoulder and pressed her thumb down hard on it. He stiffened suddenly, biting off a cry of pain. Thunder rumbled quietly from the massing clouds overhead. It was rapidly getting darker over the farm. She moved her thumb around grimly, trying to ignore his agony.

          “Just tell us who you are and the pain will stop,” she told him quietly. Tightening her grip a bit more, she went on, “It’s useless to hold off like this. We’ll find out everything eventually.” The man’s lips were trembling, pressed together tightly against the pain. She slackened her grip and waited, studying him. He lay back, pale and panting heavily. Sweat was streaming down his face in rivets. Even now, she was struck by how closely he resembled Mr. Luthor.

          “How did you manage that?” she asked. “At first, I thought it was some kind of mask or make-up, but it’s not. Was it surgery?” He didn’t answer and she reached over, tugging his face up. The look in his eyes was pure murder.

          “I am… Lionel Luthor,” he coughed out. “This is my-“

          “At first, I thought this was flattering, but now it’s just getting ridiculous,” Lionel exploded behind her. He stormed over to them and roughly pushed Lana aside. Grabbing the lapels of the other man’s suit, he pulled him up bodily. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “This farm; this house; its all my property. Were you looking for something? What?”

          Lana stared up at him from where she had fallen, too shocked to move. “Sir…”

          “It’s not yours,” the other man grimaced.

          The fury left Lionel’s face like it had been swept away. “What did you say?” he asked. The other man didn’t answer. A muscle began to twitch rhythmically in Lionel’s jaw as he stared at him. Then he dropped the man roughly and backed away.

          “Lana,” he said, “hand me your gun, please.” She blinked and then hurriedly placed it in his outstretched hand. He leveled smoothly at the other man and waited. The wounded man pulled himself up to his knees, his head a foot from the barrel. Thunder rumbled again from overhead. “For the last time, what do you mean?”

          “It’s his,” the man said quietly. He cradled his shoulder with one hand and stared up at them. Then before their startled eyes, the man started to change. His features flowed around, changing shape and texture. Lana could only stare as his red hair writhed and started to grow longer and darker. His body contracted, growing smaller and thinner. Then it was done, and the man was no longer there, in his place was a young girl. She had long dark hair with an angular face, and looked to be no older than Lana. The tailored suit was gone as well; in its place she seemed to be wearing a formless black cloth that was molded to her skin. Then Lana noticed that while one of her shoulders was covered by the cloth, the other, the wounded one was not. Amazed, she watched the black cloth flow up the girl’s arm, trying to cover the wound, but then fall back around it, leaving her shoulder exposed. The girl flinched as it did so, staring at them.

          “What are you?” Lana asked, horrified.

          “Just a victim,” the girl snarled, her face looking haggard. Her entire shoulder was red and swollen now. She swayed a little, breathing heavily.

          “Very… interesting,” Lionel said quietly, pausing for a moment. He still had the gun trained on her. “Well, it does answer one question; it seems we missed one at least. If I cared enough, I’d ask if there are any more of you out there, but right now, I only want to know one thing. What did you mean before? Who were you talking about?”

          The girl smiled grimly at him, but said nothing. Lionel waited, his lip twitching wildly. “Fine,” he snarled. He readied the gun, his fingers tightening on the grip. The girl closed her eyes, tears spilling out them as she waited for the blast. Thunder rippled again across the sky. Lana’s eyes went from the girl to Lionel and then back again. The seconds ticked by, but no shot came. Finally, the girl opened her eyes, looking up at him.

          The gun was slack in Lionel’s hands. He stared up at the vacant house, his mouth half open and his face as white as a ghost. “It’s not possible,” he whispered. Lana could only stare at him. “No, it’s not possible. He can’t know…”

          “Sir?” she asked, stepping towards him. He didn’t seem to hear her at all, his entire being seemed centered on the house. “Sir?” she asked again, touching his arm. “What’s the matter?”

          He jerked roughly under her touch, his head whipping towards her. He blinked, almost not seeing her and then broke into a run, straight towards the house. “Sir!” she yelled after him. He kept going, running up the path and climbing over the broken down porch. He yanked open the door roughly and disappeared inside the house. Some of her men stared after him and then looked to her, uncertain. A few of them started to follow after Lionel towards the house. “Stay where you are,” she barked at them.

          They stopped short, not a few of them staring incredulously at her. “You want us to leave him in there?” one of them protested.

          “Standing orders, Beel,” she said, recognizing him. “No one but Mr. Luthor or myself goes in there. Fall in now, hurry.”

          Beel raised his eyebrows and she waited, watching him carefully. He was one of the older men under her command, with more years experience than she’d been alive. She knew her being put in command of the Corps had caused a few protests and resignations, but regardless of that, she was in command. Since her promotions, she’d worked tirelessly to prove herself to the doubtful troops, and in that time, most of them had come to accept her. Still, she needed instant obedience from her men or that authority she’d worked so hard to cultivate would fall apart.

          “Did you not hear me, Lieutenant?” she stressed, hating him for putting her in this situation. They didn’t have time for this sort of thing, but he’d forced her. Beel frowned and then nodded to the rest of the men around him. A few of the soldiers looked conflicted, staring between her and the house, but they followed him over to her.

          “Ma’am,” one of them said as they jogged over. She curled her lips slightly and turned away, surveying the rest of her men. Not a few of them gave the girl on the ground a wide berth. They shifted their guns in their hands, and she was almost pleased to see that they looked just as worried as she did.

          “I want two squads on a roving patrol around the area,” she began quickly. Pointing to a young looking soldier, she nodded at him. “Codel, take the outer perimeter. Sweep the fields to the forest and keep in contact. Beel, you’ve got the farm. Be careful, we don’t know what the situation is, but something’s definitely wrong here.” He nodded quickly and almost involuntarily glanced up at the house. “Don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’ll be heading in after him.”

          Turning back to the girl, Lana stared down at her, and then pulled out her other gun from a side holster. It wasn’t an M-model, powered by the meteor rocks, but it was .50 caliber, gun enough to handle almost anything. She cocked it audibly and stared at the girl, feeling that familiar red hate bubble up through her suddenly. The girl panted, staring at the ground. “If anything happens to him in there…,” she warned, grinding her teeth.

          “I hope something does,” she mumbled back, her eyes fluttering back. Lana snarled back at her and smashed her across the back of her head with the butt of the gun. The girl collapsed in a heap with a groan. She lay on the ground, coughing in the dirt, still conscious.

          “Leave ten men here to guard her,” Lana told them firmly. “If she starts moving, don’t hesitate to fire. The lab might want to study her, but they can do that just as well on an autopsy table.” She scanned their faces for fear, but found none. They were all hardened troops, hand-picked from freelance groups or ex-military. They were literally the best money could buy, and carried the latest in equipment. There was nothing on this world they couldn’t handle.

          Which was exactly the problem, she thought to herself suddenly.

          Thunder rolled overhead again, sending a shiver down her spine. The run down farm buildings and broken machinery looked even more foreboding under the darkening sky. Even worse was that cold feeling in her gut, the kind she had been trained to recognize. It meant someone was watching her. “I hate this place,” she muttered out loud. “We should have burned it out a long time ago.”

          Pushing her fears away, she glanced around and signaled for them to move out quickly. They hurried off, forming up into search teams and dispersing over the farm. “Keep in constant communication,” she shouted out. “If you find something, I want everyone to know about it.” Then she turned to the house and steeled herself. “Here goes everything,” she muttered quietly and began to jog up towards it.

          She’d been to the farm twice before, but had never come more than fifty paces near the house. That was hardly surprising in itself, Lex had never even been here, and perhaps he didn’t even know it existed. The other troops that accompanied them never knew the place was any different from the countless other homes Lionel owned. It wasn’t listed on any tax forms, and anyone investigating the ownership would’ve had to unravel a paper trail more than a mile long. Driving by it, if you could get that close, past all the hidden surveillance and purposely-confusing signs and roads, you’d never know there was anything different about it.

          Even Lana didn’t know why Lionel was so secretive about this place. She’d rather have just forgotten it had ever existed. Something about the place always chilled her, leaving her edgy for days afterwards. It wasn’t that it was abandoned, she’d seen enough of that in her lifetime, but rather it felt worse. It always felt to her like the farm had been spoiled, ruined. Like it had could’ve been a place of beauty, but something had destroyed that and left it to waste away instead.

          She cleared the ruined front stoop in one leap and pulled herself up onto the doorframe. Dried paint flaked off the wood as she gripped the sides of the door, peering in nervously. The air inside smelt dank and stale, and there didn’t seem to be much light to see by. “Sir?” she called out, hesitating. “Mr. Luthor!” There was no answer. Swallowing, she let go of the door and stepped further in.

          Past the doorway, she came to the ruins of a kitchen and what looked like a family room at the other end of the house. The floor was covered with dead leaves and bits of plaster and wood from the walls. It looked like some animal had made a nest in one of the cabinets, but it was abandoned now. A sudden draft blew through the house, sending the leaves on the floor skittering against the sides of the walls. Lana jumped a little, but she controlled herself. Tightening her grip on her gun, she continued through the house, her senses like razors.

          Her eyes caught sight of something in the living room that made her stop for a second. There was an old battered picture frame lying on the floor. The glass covering was smashed in, but the picture was there, a little faded and water-damaged, but some details could be made out. It was of a man and a woman, standing close together and smiling. They were clearly a couple, or married. The man was young, probably only in his late twenties, but looked at least ten years older. He had a simple, honest, attractive face. The woman-

          A sudden noise above her made Lana jump in surprise. A bit of plaster rained down on her shoulder from the ceiling and she heard the ceiling beams creak. Readying her gun, she waited, staring upwards. She stayed that way for almost a minute, all her senses fixed above her. Finally, she eased off on the gun and lowered it. She looked up for another moment and then bent back down to the picture.

          The woman had long, red hair and a sweet face. She seemed young, younger than the man, but more confident. Lana stared at if for a moment and then picked up the frame, studying it closer. There was something familiar about the woman, she thought. It was her smile, she realized slowly. Something about the sure, faithful way she was smiling. Her mother had smiled like that, she thought to herself. Even in the bad times, she’d always smiled.

          “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Lionel’s voice came from nowhere. She jumped, spinning around to face him. He stood there quietly, smiling at her, his face a mystery. He looked away from her and patted the walls of the house lovingly. “Weathered, scarred, but you can see the vestiges of true beauty. Time and circumstances have both left their mark, but they could never demean her. Never in a hundred lifetimes.” He smiled and looked back at her. “Lana?” he asked, gesturing at her hands. She looked down and was startled to see that she was aiming the gun straight at him. The trigger was pulled back, a hair’s breadth from firing.

          Slowly, she eased back on her grip and let the gun drop to her side. She let go of a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and stared at him. “Sir, we need to get you to safety. Something’s going on here.”

          “Yes, I would say that,” he agreed quietly. “He’s been here, perhaps he’s still here.”

          “What do you mean? Who?” she asked.

          He looked back at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The alien. The second one. He’s here,” he said calmly. “He knows. Find him.”

          Chapter 18

          Clark watched the soldiers disperse across the farms in groups from behind the shed. One of the soldiers broke off from the others and ran into the house, following after the first man who’d entered before. Using only his x-ray vision made it a little difficult to make out the details of what was happening, but he could tell that this was his best chance. He could see Tina still lying prone on the ground, guarded, but now only by ten men instead of the entire group. If he kept moving, he could probably take out all of them before they could fire a shot off. Still, he thought, the problem was getting away once he had her. With all the soldiers searching the farm, he’d never be able to grab Tina and then Chloe and Whitney as well. And there was another problem, he thought grimly. The soldiers would probably check the barn first, and if they found the cellar things would get a lot worse very quickly.

          He dashed quickly towards the back of the barn and slipped in through small door, keeping to the shadows. The only light streaming into the barn came from the cracked window in the loft, casting a small pool of brightness on the ground floor. The rest of the barn lay cloaked in darkness. Glancing through the floor, he could see Chloe kneeling by Whitney down in the cellar. At least he was finally conscious now. Then he swung his head up, looking through the barn doors.

          As he stepped back further into the shadows, the barn doors slid open noisily and four soldiers appeared in the main doors, staring around. Thankfully, Clark saw that they weren’t carrying the meteor-powered rifles from before. Not that they were completely harmless, he thought dryly; each soldier was heavily armed and looked like they wouldn’t hesitate to open fire on the first thing that moved. Things could definitely get very bad here very quickly.

          One of them clicked on a flashlight and pointed it towards the loft, signaling two of them to search it silently. They broke off and slowly climbed the loft stairs, guns at the ready. Clark waited, watching both groups. He hesitated for a moment and then jumped up and caught the edge of the loft, pulling himself up quickly. The two soldiers separated, one heading towards the cracked window. He glanced through it quickly, and then tried to move the edges of the window. The other searched around, looking up in the rafters. Clark remained where he was crouched for a moment and then he started to creep towards the moving soldier from behind. He closed the distance quietly, his hands at the ready. He’d have to move quickly, he thought, if this was going to work. If he could immobilize every man before they knew what was happening, he might have a chance of pulling this off.

          The loft window crashed open suddenly as the soldier managed to force the edges to move. Sunlight flooded into the loft temporarily blinding everyone. The soldier looked away, shading his eyes with his arms from the sudden brightness. Clark stood there blinking, frozen in place as he locked eyes with the shocked man. “Behind you!” the soldier started to yell to his partner, scrambling to bring up his gun. Clark hissed in irritation and started to move.

          Extending his arm, he dashed past the first soldier and clotheslined him roughly. The soldier was knocked head over heels and landed with a loud thud on the wooden floor. He didn’t get up. Clark didn’t stop moving, leaping over him and closing the distance to the window. Moving at his speed, the second man looked to Clark to be frozen in the act of reaching for his gun. Clark almost felt sorry for him. He picked up the soldier by his helmet with one hand and slammed him into the window frame, making the entire wall shudder. A few cracks appeared in the frame from around the back of the man’s helmet. The soldier flopped for a moment and then went limp. Frowning, Clark checked him with his x-ray vision for a moment and then dropped him.

          “Sam? Everything okay up there?” one of the other soldiers called from downstairs. Clark frowned, staring down at them through the loft boards. He hadn’t meant to give them any warning. Then he heard something that made his blood run cold.

          “Possible contact in the barn loft,” he could hear the other soldier rasp into his walkie-talkie. There was a faint hiss of status and then Clark heard the acknowledgement on the other end. He definitely hadn’t meant to give them time enough for that.

          Throwing caution to the winds, Clark ran to the edge of the loft and jumped off, coming down almost on top of the two soldiers. They cursed something and started to raise their guns, but he struck one of them lightly across the jaw, sending the man’s head snapping back. Before he could fall though Clark grabbed him by his jacket and spun him around into his partner. Both men flew through the air and crashed through the side of the old horse stall in the side of the barn. Clark waited, watching the dust settle around them, but neither moved.

          For a moment he felt like smiling. Then he stared through the barn walls and all his good feelings evaporated. He could see over a dozen figures advancing towards the barn in all directions, and more were appearing every moment.

          “Great, Clark,” he muttered to himself in frustration. He spun around, still staring through the woodwork. “You’re really keeping everyone safe here.”

          He dashed over to the barn doors and threw one closed quickly. Grabbing the other, he glanced out as he heard a startled cry. A swarm of bullets smashed into the wood around him as the soldiers spotted him and opened fire. Ducking his head, he slammed the door shut and then grabbed the remains of an old tractor plow. He threw it against the door to block it in and then turned around, seeing the side door he’d slipped through earlier. It hung open in the wind, swinging slightly. Even worse, he could see another soldier through the barn walls, approaching it. He was pressed up against the side of the barn, trying to keep from being seen. Clark watched him through the wall smiled grimly.

          Running over to the wall, Clark paused, watching the soldier, and then he smashed his fist out through the wall and caught the soldier’s neck in his hand. Then he pulled back sharply and slammed the man senseless against the side of the barn. He let him drop and pulled his hand back, still smiling. Then he quickly slammed the door shut and flung the dead bolt on it, locking it.

          “Now lets see what happens,” he muttered.

          Lana came charging out of the house, already shouting into her radio. “Beel, status! Beel!” She waited impatiently, looking around the farm as she did. A squad was nearby and she waved them over, still waiting for a reply. Only static came back. “Codel,” she snarled, “what’s your status? Why isn’t Beel responding?”

          “Don’t know,” he came back over the radio. “He took a squad into the barn and then said something about a noise and we lost him. We’re taking a look there now.”

          “Forget about the other patrols,” she said, “get everyone there. That’s where he is.”

          “Who, ma’am?” he sounded confused.

          “The alien!” she practically shrieked. “He’s here on the farm right now. Trap him in the barn and wait for further instructions.” She glanced up and saw the soldiers look around nervously. “You have a problem with that order?” she snapped.

          “No, ma’am,” one of them said, snapping to attention. “It’s just… we don’t have the equipment to deal with him. The guns…”

          “Are on their way,” she said. She raised her radio again and spoke quickly and precisely into it. “This is LC1 for Pandora, do you copy?”

          “Copy, LC1,” came the reply after a moment. There was a sudden burst of gunfire in the direction of the barn and everyone but Lana jumped, their weapons at the ready.

          “We need containment measures on site,” she went on. “Location: ES241. Clearance code is 3429-345LE. Maximum spread, is that understood?” She covered her radio with her hand and glanced at the soldiers. “You may want to get over to the barn now,” she said dryly. They stared at her for a moment, blinking in astonishment, and then they turned as a group and ran off. She smirked and uncovered her radio.

          “Copy, LC1,” the reply came. “Code is accepted. Containment on the way.”

          She nodded and did the calculations in her head. They were more than five miles from town and the labs. Getting the helicopters launched would take at least ten minutes, if it were already prepped that was. Added to that was the time it would take to get the meteor guns out of the vault. She realized slowly that they might have to hold their own here for a while. Lana grimaced. She hadn’t planned on having a second confrontation with the alien so soon. She’d seen how much damage the first creature could do when it was provoked, and the second was even stronger if it was possible. She and her men were armed with only rifles and their stun batons, which were capable of delivering a nearly fatal burst of electricity to a target, but only at close range. She doubted that even if the alien let them get that close he would barely feel that.

          “Lana, have you called for the troops?” Lionel asked. He emerged from the house, looking shaken. His suit was wrinkled and stained from the dust inside.

          “Yes, sir, they’re on their way.” He nodded, staring off into the distance. “Sir, perhaps you’d better go back inside. This area isn’t secure yet.”

          “Have you found him yet?”

          “We have it pinned down in the barn,” she assured him. “It’s only a matter of time.”

          “I don’t have to remind you of how important this place is to me, do I?” he asked, not looking at her.

          “Sir, no, sir.” He nodded and stared back at the house, taking in all of it. She glanced towards the barn and then looked back towards him. She bit her lip eagerly and stepped towards him. “Sir, do I have permission to use lethal-“

          “No,” he said sternly, some of his fire coming back. Her face fell. “Not yet,” he amended. “I want him alive, but I can live with the alternative. Her secret is more important to me than the alien, do you understand?” She nodded quickly trying to contain the sudden rush she felt. Saluting, she started to rush off when he called her back.

          “Lana, I trust you in this. Alive, if it’s possible.”

          “Of course, sir,” she said guilelessly.

          He nodded, smiling slightly. “I think I will take your advice,” he said slowly, looking towards the house. “Inform me the moment reinforcements are here. We’ll be able to capture him then.” She nodded again and he waved her away, heading back inside the house.

          She could barely stand to wait for his back to turn before she was off and running. Hurrying down the line of vehicles, she found the one she wanted and popped open the back quickly. Inside was a rack of assault rifles and ammunition, but she hardly gave these a glance. Lifting out the entire rack, she put it on the ground carelessly and reached back inside the car. She opened up a hidden compartment in the car and took out a large, gray gun. Clicking it on, she saw the firing light on the side turn a bright green and she smiled. It had been specially designed for her, with more than twice the firepower of the normal meteor powered models. Hefting it, she turned towards the barn and marched off.

          “Alive if possible,” she repeated to herself. “Only if he can survive this first.”

          Her men had the barn completely surrounded, but hadn’t made any other move aside from that. They were crouched behind sheds and fence posts, staring towards it and waiting nervously. The barn was quiet looking for all the world as empty as it should have been. “Any movement?” she asked one of the soldiers as she approached him.

          “We got a shot off at him when he closed the doors before,” he replied anxiously. He rubbed his palm against the side of his pants nervously and then gripped his gun again. “Someone tried the door in the back but he knocked him cold through the wall. Other than that, there’s been no movement.”

          “He can see through walls remember?” she reminded him dryly. “He’s probably watching us now.”

          The soldier blanched, looking back at the barn in horror. “What about back-up?” he asked.

          “On their way,” she replied coolly. She thought for a moment and then nodded quickly. “Open fire.” The soldier stared at her. “Open fire on the barn,” she said more forcefully. “We’ll flush him out and deal with him ourselves.”

          “But Beel and the others are still inside. And what about backup…

          “Backup can scrape up what’s left of him when I’m done with him,” she spat out at him. “Now open fire!” He stared at her and then hefted his gun and fired a steady stream at the barn. After a moment, the rest of the soldiers joined in. Dust and splinters of wood shook out from the barn as more than thirty guns fired on it. The old wooden boards split and tore apart as the bullets crashed through them.

          “Come on,” Lana whispered, her eyes locked on the barn as she waited. “Come on out.”


          Inside the barn, Clark ducked as the bullets tore through the air. Tools jumped off the walls and the entire structure seemed to shake under the onslaught. One of the support beams for the loft was shattered as the gunfire tore it to pieces, sending a portion of the loft crashing down over Clark’s head. He shook it off, climbing to his feet as he covered his head. A year ago, being struck by a bullet would have left a bruise behind, but by now he was strong enough to shrug a shot off like a light punch. Still, this wasn’t one bullet though. He was practically knocked off his feet as he was struck back and forth from all sides. Gritting his teeth, he ducked, making himself less of a target. All around him, the barn continued to disintegrate. He saw the edge of the loft tilt and finally collapse on the far side of the barn, smashing into pieces. Another post cracked and broke off, this time causing a section of the roof to buckle. The Kent barn had withstood countless winter storms and seasons of neglect, but now it was being thoroughly destroyed in a matter of moments.

          If this keeps up Chloe and Whitney are going to be buried underneath all the rubble, he thought. Staring outside through all the gunfire, he could see the soldiers still unloading round after round towards him. Don’t they care? Their own men are still in here! The gunfire continued, tearing through the walls and occasionally striking him. Watching his barn disintegrate under the heavy fire, Clark’s face scrunched up in anger. He’d had to endure a lot since he’d come here. He’d found out his parents were dead, his home abandoned. And now his friends were hurt and in danger and these people were destroying another piece of his home. Clark wasn’t a violent person by nature, but there was only so much he could take. And he’d just reached that limit.

          Clark stood up, hardly even feeling the bullet’s impact anymore. He stared through the walls at a group of soldiers, watching them stand around a shed his father had built, using it for cover. In a second, in less than a hundredth of that, he was running, smashing through the barn wall like it wasn’t even there. He ran heedlessly through the bullets, frozen as if in mid-flight, towards the soldiers. The shed exploded as he passed through it, hurtling the men through the air. They came down roughly and tumbled away. Clark slowed down momentarily, snapping around to look for another group. There was a cry from his left and then a round of gunfire struck him across the back. Five soldiers were opening fire on him from across the yard. Turning swiftly, Clark dashed towards them before they could fire another shot and smashed the lead man across the face. He went flying to the side, tumbling head over heels as he came down. Not stopping, Clark smashed through the rest of the soldiers, scattering them like ten-pins. Another soldier appeared from behind the barn, raising his rifle hastily, but Clark was already there in front of him. He snatched the weapon from the startled man and smashed the butt of it into his stomach. The man went down, the breath rushing out of him.

          Through the red haze, Clark heard another burst of gunfire and turned, seeing another group of soldiers standing over Tina’s body. He stared at her, not even noticing the bullets striking him, only seeing her still body lying there. Then he was running across the field, moving so fast that his footprints smoked in the dirt. He grabbed one of the soldiers and flung him to the side, sending him soaring thirty feet through the air to come down hard on the roof of one of the parked cars. He battered another man aside and then grunted as one of them pulled out a metal wand of some kind and struck him with it. The end glowed a bright blue and gave out a high pitched whine as Clark felt electricity surge through his body. It hurt, but that was all. He stood there for a second, grimacing as the man held it to his chest and then he took hold of the baton and pulled it away. Smashing it in his fist, he grabbed the startled man and struck him across the helmet with the broken pieces. He was lifting him up to throw him aside when a shout broke through his rage-clouded mind.

          “Stop him! Quickly! He’s destroying everything!” It had come from the house. He turned around slowly, still holding the stunned soldier, and looked in the direction of the familiar voice. A man was standing in the doorway of the abandoned home, looking as pale as a ghost himself. His dark brown hair stood out shockingly against his skin, and the look in his eyes was intense. It was a look Clark had seen many times before in his world. “He’s ruining my home!” Lionel Luthor shrieked at the soldiers. “Do something!”

          “Your home?” Clark said angrily. He dropped the soldier and started to walk across the yard, picking up speed. “Your home!” he yelled. Lionel stood staring at him as he dashed across the yard towards him, Chloe, Tina, the farm, everything else forgotten. He heard the rest of the soldiers cry out helplessly, but there was no one between him and Lionel. He threw himself forward the last ten feet, his arms outstretched towards the billionaire.

          Then a burst of green light struck him from the side and knocked him sprawling. He tumbled wildly and went sprawling in the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust and torn up soil. As he finally came to a stop, he retched, feeling the meteor rock radiation washing through him. It was more powerful than yesterday through, and he coughed, spitting something strange that tasted coppery out of his mouth. What was that taste, he a part of him wondered idly. It seemed vaguely familiar. He struggled to his feet, his vision swimming, and then saw the red flecks on the ground and remembered it was blood. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push himself up with his arms, and then collapsed as his right arm screamed in agony. His shoulder throbbed and felt like it was on fire.

          Through the pain, he felt a something cold and hard pressed against his head, right behind his ear. “Not so strong now, are you?” a girl’s voice asked him. Clark looked up slowly, blinking the dust out of his eyes. Even with her hair cut shorter and her eyes colder and harder than he’d ever imagined, he still recognized her immediately. He’d found another of his friends.

          It was Lana.

          “Give me a reason to do it,” Lana threatened him, holding the gun at his face. Her face trembled as she said it, but the gun remained steady. “Give me a reason and I’ll blow you back to wherever you came from.”

          Clark stared up at her, too shocked to respond. It was Lana, his Lana, and yet it wasn’t. He could see the LuthorCorps fatigues, the short hair, and her tight, drawn eyes, everything that was different about her, but beyond that there was the something else, something in her eyes that touched him. He recognized it, the same way he had with Chloe before, but it was stronger now. There was hate and anger in her eyes, he could see that easily enough, but he could sense the pain there; the sadness that had always been a part of the Lana he knew.

          “It’s you, Lana,” he said quietly, staring up at her, not even seeing the gun.

          She blinked, the gun jumping a little. “You know my name?” she asked stunned. Suddenly she looked less sure of herself. “How is that…” she started to ask, but then she shook herself and pressed the gun down against his temple. “Shut up! Just shut up!”

          “Lana, keep him there,” Lionel said, running up to them, the soldiers that could still walk, following after him. Encircling Clark and Lana, they aimed their guns and waited. Lana didn’t acknowledge him. She stared at Clark, grinding the gun into his skull.

          Clark moved his head away, but she pressed it down against him more firmly. “I said don’t move!” she yelled at him.

          “Lana, you have to listen to me,” Clark said quickly. “I’m your friend; I’m not here to hurt you. You can put the gun away.” Everyone looked shocked as he spoke. Lionel glanced from Clark to Lana and then back.

          “You can speak English?” he asked, amazed.

          “He’s not going to be speaking anything if he keeps it up,” Lana threatened. Her finger tightened on the trigger as she kept the gun pressed against his head. Clark gritted his teeth as his shoulder scraped against the ground. He knew he could probably move fast enough to grab the gun away from her before she could fire a shot, but what about then? She wasn’t just going to give up that easily. No matter how different she was, she was still Lana. Could he really fight her if he had to?

          “Lana, please, I’m your friend,” he tried again.

          “Shut up!” she screamed, her face flushed with anger. “I’m not your fiend. I’ll never be your friend. You killed my parents! Every last one of your kind should die,” she swore coldly. Clark could only stare at her, horrified.

          “Now don’t do anything rash yet,” Lionel told her firmly. He stepped forwards, reaching out to grab her shoulder when Lana stiffened suddenly and he moved back. His face was worried, but also strangely chagrined.

          “Lana, I need him alive, do you understand me?” he asked in a level voice. Her lip twitched nervously, but she didn’t answer. She tightened her grip on the gun and stared at Clark. He looked back at her, too stunned to move. She’d pressed the trigger back halfway, only an ounce more pressure would send it back fully. “Lana,” Lionel tried again. “Lana, I’m giving you a direct order now!” he snapped, his patience at an end. “You will not destroy that creature unless I give the order, do you understand?”

          With supreme effort, Lana seemed to come back to herself slowly. The flush faded from her face and she seemed to shrink a little. Her finger relaxed around the trigger, but she didn’t take the gun away from his head yet. “Understood, sir,” she breathed out quietly. “I’m sorry.”

          “We’ll deal with that later,” Lionel said shortly. He glanced at Clark and pursed his lips. “Much later. There are a lot of questions I’m sure we’d all like answered, but here isn’t the place. We’ll be able to sort things out once we have it contained.”

          “I’m not going anywhere with you,” Clark said.

          Lionel smirked and looked away. “Just as stubborn as the other one,” he said dryly.

          Clark’s head jerked up roughly. A number of things clicked together in his mind suddenly. He’d wondered before about how the soldiers had known recognized him in town, how they’d known of his weakness to the meteor rocks. How could they have known about his secret and the limitations of his powers, unless they’d had a chance to study them close up before? With a sudden wave of nausea he realized that of all the people he’d wondered about in this version of Smallville, he’d never paused to think about what had happened to him here. If his ship hadn’t landed in front of his parents in this world, he thought with horror, just where had it landed? Right on the Luthor’s doorstep? He looked up and saw Lionel smiling tightly down at him and it was all he could do from rising up to grab hold of him. Lana seemed to sense what he was thinking and put the gun underneath his jaw.

          “Don’t think I wouldn’t do it,” she said quietly.

          He swallowed and looked in her eyes. A part of him believed her. “I could take that gun away from you, you know,” he said quietly.

          “Then why don’t you?” she said back. He just looked back at her, shaken by what he heard in her voice.

          “Lana, leave him alone for now,” Lionel spoke up. He looked at the scattered boards from the various sheds Clark had destroyed and then at the ruined wall of the barn. “I’d rather we didn’t do any more damage here,” he said tightly.

          “What do you care? It’s my home,” Clark snapped.

          Lionel jerked his head back, glaring at him. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, his face darkening noticeably.

          Clark shut his mouth and didn’t say anything, staring at him angrily. Lionel glowered at him and then he seemed to control himself with effort. He let out a long breath and smirked. “If you’re thinking that there’s nothing we can do to you, you’re wrong,” he said, squatting down to look at him. “Your kind is strong and practically invulnerable, it’s true,” he said quietly, “but there is that practically part of it that’s the snag. We’ve had quite a bit of time to study your species, your strengths and your limitations. But what I am saying this for,” he smiled suddenly, glancing at Clark’s red and swollen shoulder, “I’m sure you already know what I’m talking about. So all that’s left to say is that if you are hiding things from us, make no mistake, we will find out about them.” He smiled at Clark and stood up. “Lana here has become quite the expert in that area.”

          Clark looked at Lana and saw her smile tightly. Something lurched in his stomach and he thought he would be sick on the spot. It just wasn’t possible. Could he have been wrong about her?

          “Uh, sir?” Everyone looked up suddenly as one of the soldiers spoke up.

          Lionel glanced at him irritably and snapped, “What is it?”

          “The girl, uh, the one from before,” he said slowly, looking back towards the barn, “where is she?”

          Lionel gaped at him and then spun around and stared at where Tina had fallen. Clark craned his head to side as far as he could with the gun poking him in the head and looked as well. He could see the soldiers he’d knocked unconscious still lying there, but Tina was gone.

          “Spread out and search the farm,” Lana snapped suddenly, glancing from Clark to where Tina had been and back again. “She can’t have gotten far.”

          “She didn’t,” Lionel said slowly, staring around them, his eyes going wide with alarm.

          “Sir?” Lana asked, confused. Lionel didn’t answer, staring at the soldiers massed around them. They were still standing ready, with their rifles aimed at Clark, but they took a step back nervously as he eyed them. Slowly, Lana realization crept into her eyes and she stiffened. “She’s here!” she cried, her other hand diving for the spare holster wrapped around her leg. She pulled out an automatic, but waved it around at the group, unsure of whom to aim it at. Some of the soldiers lowered their guns as others realized what had happened as well and jumped back, bringing their guns up at anyone who was near them. Then without warning a large soldier leapt forwards and grabbed Lionel, jabbing his pistol against the billionaire’s throat.

          “Smart man,” Tina’s voice came out of the burly man’s mouth.

          The soldiers shifted their aim from each other to Lionel and Tina quickly, but not quick enough. She held him tightly, moving the gun barrel up to rest against his face as she wrapped her other hand around his throat. “Don’t be stupid, drop the guns,” she snarled, her voice sounding strange coming from the large soldier’s body.

          “Do what-,” Lionel started to rasp out when Tina choked him off. He gasped and breathed out the rest as she loosened her grip. “Do what she says… Now!” The look he fixed her with was pure murder.

          “Didn’t think you’d be the type to sacrifice yourself,” Tina wheezed out. Her voice sounded forced and almost wet now. “Let him go!” she called then. Lana stiffened, her eyes blazing, but Tina fixed her with a steely look. “Your choice, step back, or find out what your boss looks like without a face.” She moved the gun so it pressed against Lionel’s eyes and waited. Lana hesitated, and then backed up from Clark, holstering her gun forcibly. She gestured to the troops and they lowered their weapons.

          Clark got to his feet, looking uncertainly at Lana. She glared at him from the corner of her eyes, but refused to face him.

          Lionel went pale with fury, almost quivering. “Whomever, whatever you are, I’m going to remember this. And no matter who you look like, or how often you change, I will find you someday,” he promised.

          Tina flinched suddenly, but then tried to hide it. “Whatever,” she shrugged. Then she looked at the soldiers. “That’s not good enough, drop them all, now.” They did so reluctantly. “You too, Commando Barbie,” she smiled somewhat vacantly at Lana.

          Lana flushed, but pulled out her gun slowly. Clark readied himself, but she tossed it on the ground and stepped back. “Satisfied?” she asked snidely.

          “Not yet. Clark, you want to do something about that?” she asked quickly. He nodded and stared down at the gun, focusing his vision. In a moment, the gun glowed bright red and then melted into a slag of circuitry and metal. For good measure, he swept his heat-vision along the ground, super-heating the other guns.

          “Finished,” he said.

          “Good,” she coughed. Her eyes closed momentarily and she seemed to slump over, but she then tightened her grip on Lionel and jerked him almost off his feet. “Grab the others from the barn. Hurry!” Clark glanced at the soldiers, but she nodded towards the barn. “We don’t have much time, go!”

          “Right,” he said and dashed towards the barn. He shouldered open the bullet riddled door and stepped inside. Timber and pieces of the ceiling had collapsed all over the barn floor, forcing him to clear a path to the cellar entrance. Along the way, he heard a moan and stared quietly for a moment. Pulling a section of the collapsed loft up, he discovered two soldiers lying underneath it, part of the group that had attacked him earlier. They were badly injured, but from the look of things, still alive. He hesitated for a moment, but then his own nature took over and he picked them up as gently as possible. He carried them back through the barn and outside, laying them down against the door. Quickly, he hurried back inside. There had been four, he remembered, and stared around, using his x-ray vision to locate the others. He found them buried under more rubble. One started to cough as he pulled him out of the pile of timber he’d been lying under, but the other was already dead. Gritting his teeth, Clark gathered the two of them up and carried them outside. He set them down by the others and then returned for a final time, hoping that Chloe and Whitney would be in better shape.

          Tossing the last few bits of wreckage aside, Clark found the cellar door and yanked it open, almost ripping it from its hinges. He stared down into darkness for a moment and then a long handled shovel jabbed up towards his face. He snatched it away and blinked as he saw Whitney was on the other end of it. “You’re alive!” he exclaimed, staring up at him.

          “Yeah, he’s alive, great,” Chloe snapped, stepping into the light. She lifted a rusted old pitchfork shakily, and banged it against the opening, trying to get it through. “Help me with this, I’m gonna kill him!” she snapped at Whitney.

          “Later, we have to go,” Clark told her, reaching down into the opening. Whitney grabbed Chloe and boosted her up so Clark could grab her.

          “What about Tina?” he asked. “Where is she? Is she…”

          “She’s fine, but she’s all alone out there!” Clark said. He pulled Chloe up and helped her over the lip of the entrance. She climbed to her feet and stared around, looking at the demolished loft and the numerous bullet holes along the walls.

          “You know, maybe it was a good idea I stayed down there,” she said slowly.

          Clark grabbed Whitney’s hand and pulled him out in one clean motion. Whitney scrambled up and then glanced at Clark’s shoulder. “What happened to you?”

          “Later, c’mon!” he yelled, running towards the door. They followed after him.

          Tina still had Lionel held hostage, thankfully, but she seemed to be swaying on her feet unsteadily. Lana and the rest of the soldiers watched her with dreadful intensity, but they didn’t try to move just yet. Tina still held Lionel in almost a death-grip, half-choking him. His face was actually starting to turn red as he fought for breath.

          “Get in the car,” Tina yelled at them, her voice wavering. “Go!”

          Whitney stopped frozen in his tracks. “Tina?” he stared at her, almost horrified. Clark glanced at him and then realized that Tina hadn’t changed back yet. She was still in the form of one of the LuthorCorp soldiers. “What…” Whitney started, his face blank and uncomprehending.

          Tina flinched away, turning her face away from them. “Get one of the cars, come on! They’ve called for support, they’ll be here any minute.”

          Chloe glanced from Tina to Clark, and then to Whitney. “Okay, that’s good enough for me. Com’on,” she waved to them and ran towards one of the LuthorCorp vehicles. “Forget the clunker, we’d be better off in this.”

          “Right,” Clark agreed, and then he ran back towards Whitney. He was still standing there, staring at Tina. Grabbing his arm, Clark forced him to look towards him. “We’ll talk about it later, okay, but not now.” Whitney stared back at him numbly. “Get one of them started,” Clark told him and shoved him towards Chloe. Then he turned back towards Tina.

          “Just get them away,” she gasped at him as he came closer, her voice catching. Her face was streaked with sweat now, and more disturbingly, the features on the soldier she’d impersonated had started to loosen up, making her face look like a mask of soft wax. Blood spilled out of her mouth suddenly and she coughed, hacking it up. “Get them away,” she wheezed again.

          “Not without you,” he told her. He took her by the shoulders and for a moment, she resisted, but then she seemed to collapse in his arms. Lionel fell away, gasping in air as he was able to breathe again. He held his hands to this throat and stared at them, grimacing as he fought for breath. Clark hefted Tina in his arms and stared right back at him. “This isn’t over,” he said quietly. Lionel was coughing too fiercely to respond, but the look in his eyes said enough.

          Finally, he looked at Lana. She stared back at him with such naked hate in her eyes that it almost made him sick to his stomach. “Three of your men are by the barn,” he said quietly, “I couldn’t save the fourth. I’m sorry.”

          Lana went pale and then flushed again, blinking quickly. “You’re lying. You don’t care.”

          “I do,” he swore. “Look, I didn’t start this fight. I didn’t want it.”

          “You started it fourteen years ago,” she said coldly. Clark could think of nothing to say to that.

          “Clark, let’s go!” Chloe yelled from across the yard. He looked at Lana sadly for a moment and then turned and ran, carrying Tina in his arms. She wheezed painfully as he ran, going pale. Whitney and Tina were inside the cab of one of the dark gray SUV’s that the soldiers had arrived in. Whitney was frantically rummaging around the front seat, looking for something.

          “What are we waiting for?” Clark asked, opening the back door. He lay Tina down on the floor of the cab trying not to jostle her too badly. She coughed weakly and lay there, her face white. She still held the gun tightly in her hand.

          “I can’t find the damn keys,” Whitney snapped, still rummaging around. “One of the soldiers might still have them,” he looked up at Clark.

          “So what do we do? Ask them for them?” he snapped back, his temper fraying.

          “God, you two are children,” Chloe snapped. She shoved Whitney aside and crawled down underneath the steering wheel. Pulling back the covering, she started to reach inside, pulling out wires. “Can hack into a computer system, fine, sure,” she mumbled, “can benchpress a buick, yeah, easy, but can either of them hotwire a car? Didn’t think so.” She glanced up at him suddenly. “Hey, it might be a good idea to do the eye thing to the other cars, you know.”

          “Eye thing… Oh, right!” he said. She rolled her eyes and looked back at her work.

          Clark jumped out from the car and turned around, focusing his eyes. Pressed for time, he just swept his heat-vision on full blast down the line of cars. One by one, they started to smolder as the interiors ignited and tires melted and exploded in rushes of compressed air. When he was satisfied they were all scrapped, he turned around and started back.

          Suddenly there was a roaring sound in her head that seemed to eclipse everything. He sagged, falling to his knees and he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain. In the midst of it, he heard someone’s voice call out through the din. Trackers in the car there are trackers in the cars show you where they are here here here hurry. Not in control of his own actions, Clark opened his eyes and stared through the car, his eyes falling on a small blinking box underneath the driver’s seat. And then like that, the noise was gone. Shaking his head, Clark climbed to his feet. Blinking rapidly, he glanced over at Lionel and the rest, and caught the wondering look on the billionaire’s face. Then he heard the car roar to life suddenly and Chloe call out in triumph. Turning quickly he ran back.

          “What did I tell you?” Chloe laughed at him as she climbed out from under the steering wheel. “What did I tell you?”

          “Good job. Excuse me a minute,” he said and punched through the floor by her. Feeling around, he found the box and ripped it out quickly. He tossed it over his shoulder negligibly.

          “Um, we’re not going to need that, are we?” she asked, staring at it.

          “Not unless we want them following us,” he told her, shoving her into the driver’s seat. “Drive!” he said tersely.

          “What? Where?”

          “Anywhere other than here,” he said. She swallowed and nodded, gunning the engine. The car lurched and they took off, rocketing through the farm gates and onto the dirt road.

          Clark climbed around to the back, stepping over Tina. Whitney was sitting numbly beside her, just staring down at her. “How’s she doing?” he asked quickly.

          Whitney looked up at him and then shook his head, looking overwhelmed. “I don’t know. I…” he floundered and then looked away, “I don’t know.” Clark gripped his shoulder comfortingly.

          “She’s going to be fine,” he told him. “She’s strong, she’ll pull through.” Whitney stared down at her and didn’t say anything. She moaned suddenly and her wound reopened more, spilling blood down shoulder. Her body twisted and then flowed back quickly into her original form. To his amazement, the gun she’d threatened Lionel with, disappeared into her hand, flowing back inside of her.

          “Fooled ‘em,” Tina said shakily. Her eyes were unfocused and dim, and her voice wavered weakly. “Fooled them all.” She winced as the car bounced and Clark took her hand, trying to comfort her. Whitney sat there numbly, staring down at her, almost not even seeming to see her at all.

          Even as he held her hand though, Clark glanced back through the rear windows and saw the farm slowly disappear behind them. With a sudden sinking feeling he knew he would never see it again, not in this world at least. The feeling shook him deeply and not for the first time, he wondered if he would ever be able to get home at all.

          Chapter 19

          They had narrowly escaped being captured on the farm, but they weren’t out of danger yet. Clark clung to the edge of his seat, his mind running just as fast as the car as they tore through the back roads of Smallville. Presently no one had spotted them, but they were driving a stolen LuthorCorps vehicle and there was no telling how many people Lionel had put on their trail. For the last hour, they’d been roaring down all the back roads and short cuts that he could think of, trying to find some way place to stay out of sight. Unfortunately, his memories were of a different Smallville and were prone to be mistaken.

          “Not again,” Chloe moaned as they came up on another dead end. The shaded dirt road they’d been traveling on had ended besides a large pond and the ruins of an old mill. “What do we do, head back or try and go around it?”

          “There doesn’t look to be much on the other side,” Clark said. “There should have been a bridge here. Or at least, I remember one being here,” he finished.

          Chloe nodded and then looked back at him, a touch worried. “How’s Tina doing?” she asked quietly.

          Clark hesitated and glanced back quickly. Tina lay on the floor, pale and sweating. Practically as soon as they’d gotten her back in the car, the wound in her shoulder had reopened, spilling blood everywhere. It seemed that she’d been holding it closed with her will alone, at that had already been stretched too far already. It had taken a frighteningly long time to get the bleeding to stop.

          In the end, they’d bandaged her shoulder up as best as they could with a first aid kit they’d found in the car, but she had still lost a lot of blood. The bumpy road hadn’t helped any either, making her cry out with pain every time the car hit a bad patch. For a while now, she’d lapsed into unconsciousness, but Clark didn’t know whether that was good or bad. At least she didn’t seem to be in pain anymore, but if she never came out of it…
          “I’m not sure how much more she can take,” he said seriously to her. “She was shot and then had to hold herself together until we could all get away. The strain alone had to be incredible.”

          “We’re going to have to get her to a hospital, aren’t we?” Chloe commented. Clark nodded grimly. “You realize if we did that, we might as well be handing ourselves over to the Luthors,” she pointed out.

          “Maybe we can find a doctor or something. Somebody whose not going to turn us in as soon as we walk in the door.”

          Chloe spread her hands out plaintively. “Got any ideas?”

          “Keep driving,” he breathed out. “We’ll think of something.” She nodded and put the car in reverse. As they pulled out, Clark moved into the back of the car, stepping over Tina carefully. Whitney was sitting beside her, staring blankly down at her. He obviously hadn’t gotten over the shock of seeing Tina use her powers yet. He didn’t look repelled though, Clark noticed, or worried about her either, he realized as well. He just looked numbed, like it was just too much to take in all at once. Clark knew the feeling.

          “Whitney,” he shook his shoulder gently. Whitney stirred and looked at him dully. “We need to find a doctor for Tina,” he explained gently. “Is there anywhere you can think of?”

          “Doctor?” he repeated slowly. Something like concern touched his eyes and he looked down at her, and then jerked his eyes away, troubled. “Would they know… I mean… about her… how to…?” he hesitated, casting his eyes around everywhere but at Tina.

          “I don’t think it would be that different,” he said it more stiffly than he’d intended. Continuing more gently, he said, “And we don’t have any other choice. Can you think of anyone who could take her?”

          “No,” he said quietly. He stared out the window and shook his head again. Clark’s face fell and he sighed.

          “Guess we’ll keep driving then,” he muttered. “Maybe we’ll find something.” He started to climb back up into the front when Whitney’s voice stopped him.

          “Wait,” he said suddenly. Whitney sat there, his mouth open, thinking intently for a moment and then he nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I might know someone,” he muttered angrily. He flushed and dashed his arm against his eyes quickly. Pushing himself past Clark, he stood behind the driver’s seat and leaned over to Chloe. “Move over,” he told her shortly.

          “About time, I’ve been going in circles up here,” she said as she stopped the car. She climbed into the passenger’s seat as Whitney took the wheel.

          “You think of something?” Clark asked.

          “Someone,” Whitney snapped. He threw the car into gear and it lurched forwards, throwing Chloe into her seat as it took off. She grunted angrily and glared at him, but he hardly seemed to notice. The engine roared to life as he drove the car down the country roads. The car flew around a turn and then another, the wheels kicking up dust clouds behind them.

          “Uh, since Clark doesn’t count, and Tina’s out of it, could I ask you as one of the non-invulnerable people in the car to slow the **** down?!” Chloe yelled, bracing herself against the dashboard.

          “Whitney!” Clark yelled.

          “Somebody hand me a phone,” Whitney responded. His foot was still pressed down on the accelerator. There was a cell phone resting in a tray on the dashboard. Clark picked it up and handed it to him, but Whitney shrugged it away. “Preferably one not set to a Luthorcorp satellite,” he explained. Clark rolled his eyes irritably and put the phone back. Whitney took his eyes off the road long enough to give him an exasperated look. “Don’t you have one of your own?”

          “Yesterday I fell in a lake and got shot at. Today, I got shot at and my home was turned into a war zone. No, I don’t have a phone, thank you very much. What about you?”

          “I’ve got three, but I forgot them because I went chasing after someone who decided to put a new doorway in my house and get my girlfriend shot!” Whitney snapped back.

          “Here,” Chloe said idly, taking a phone out of her back pocket. She sighed and said, “When did I turn into the grown-up here?” Whitney snatched the phone up and began dialing with one hand. She glanced back at Clark and gave him a half-smile. “Better buckle up,” she said.

          Still angry, he muttered, “I’ll be fine.”

          “Maybe, you would be, but if we take a sharp turn and you go flying out the window, we’d still need to stop and pick you up again.” Clark stared at her for a moment and then found a seat and buckled in. She smiled at him and turned back around.

          “Hello, you know who this is,” Whitney said shortly into the phone. He drove the car around a tight turn, clutching the steering wheel with both hands and then returning the phone to his ear as soon as they were past it. “What? I don’t care if it’s a bad time, we’ve had a bad time; you’ve had nothing!” He fumed and then nodded into the phone as Clark and Chloe stared at him strangely.

          “Right, I know,” he nodded. “I know! Don’t- I know! Look, forget about the risks, we have to meet now. I’m bringing everyone in. You’ll see,” he snapped into the phone and shut it quickly. Then he glanced at it for a moment and tossed it out the window without a second thought.

          “Hey!” Chloe yelled, starting out of her seat, “that was mine!”

          “Can’t be too careful,” Whitney told her. “They could be listening in and trace the call.”

          “Be paranoid with your own stuff! I had all my numbers in there!” She stared after the phone and then sat back in a huff. “*******,” she muttered.

          “Now who’s the adult?” Clark said dryly.

          “It’s not paranoia if they’re really after you,” Whitney said grimly. Chloe sniffed and sat back farther in her seat, fuming.

          “So who was that?” Clark asked.

          “A friend,” Whitney explained. “We’re going to meet him and a few others who might be able to help us.”

          “Why would they do that? I mean, we don’t seem to be too popular at the moment.”

          “Only with Luthorcorp, and that’s why they’ll help. We’ve worked with them in the past… I mean, Tina and I did,” he hesitated. “They hate the ‘Corps, they despise the company. After we tell them everything, they’ll be falling over each other to help.”

          “Everything?” Clark asked.

          “Everything,” Whitney nodded. “They need to know,” he said, then he stopped and corrected himself, “well, actually they will know anyways, so it’ll be no good hiding it. There’s not much that goes in Luthorcorp my friend doesn’t know about.”

          Clark thought about that as they drove. Whitney took them past the winding back roads of Smallville towards town, but then turned east abruptly. They eventually came to a more industrial section. A few cars drove past them on the road, but not many. The area seemed largely abandoned. Rundown factories and warehouses dotted the road on either side. Clark remembered this part of Smallville as lush fields and farms; it was a shock to see it in this state. “What part of town is this?” he asked quietly.

          “The bad part,” Chloe said quietly. “Nobody comes out here anymore, not even the cops. If you don’t want to be found, it’s the perfect place to go. As long as the gangs and squatters don’t get you, that is.”

          “Gangs?” Clark stared at her.

          She nodded seriously. “It’s a dump, but a lot of people don’t have anywhere else to go. And like I said, the cops don’t come out here; that’s bound to attract some types of people, you know?”

          “We won’t have to worry about that,” Whitney told her. “These people know how to look after themselves.” He pulled the car into a sharp turn and drove towards an abandoned factory. It was a desolate looking place, surrounded by heaps of piled up scrap metal and car frames. A rusted old barbed wire fence surrounded the lot. Parts of the fence had given way and the strands of sharp metal trailed down to twist in the wind. As they passed the fence, one of the doors on the far side of the lot opened up silently and swiftly. Without hesitating, Whitney drove the opening and just as quietly, the doors closed behind them.

          They pulled to a stop and Clark opened the door, stepping out quickly. They were in a large, dimly lit room, but beyond that, it was too dark to make out any details. Chloe hopped out beside him and stared around. “Not too homey, is it?” she commented.

          “Grab Tina,” Whitney said, climbing out. He pulled open the side door to the car and started to lift her out gently. Chloe turned back to help him.

          Clark focused his eyes and stared around with his x-ray vision for a moment. The place seemed to be an old assembly plant. He could see the conveyer belts and machines standing here and there. Everything looked as if it hadn’t been used for a long time though. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the figures he could see crouched behind some of the machines, he’d have thought the place was abandoned. “There are other people in here,” he said quietly.

          “I thought that was the point,” a voice said behind them. Clark whirled around as a young man stepped out of the shadows. It took a moment for it to sink in, but then Clark realized that it was Pete standing there. It seemed strange, but he wasn’t very surprised to see him. After the shock of seeing Lana, he seemed to have gone numb to rediscovering his friends.

          Pete had changed. He seemed leaner and slightly more serious than he had in Clark’s world, but there was a look of strength about him that Clark had never seen before. Not that Pete had ever struck him as weak, but Clark always remembered him as more happy-go-lucky, fun loving. This Pete didn’t look like he’d had that much to smile about in life.

          Somewhat more importantly though, Clark noticed, he was carrying a shotgun in his hands, and he looked like he knew how to use it.

          “I got the call,” Pete said, “so you want to explain why it was necessary to steal a ‘Corps’ car and drive it all the way here?”

          “This good enough for you, Pete?” Whitney said, lifting Tina out of the car. Pete took one look at her and then spun around quickly.

          “Lights!” he yelled, and immediately more than a dozen more lights turned on overhead, temporarily blinding Clark. As he blinked quickly, about twenty people appeared from where they’d been hiding and rushed towards them. Some stopped in front of them, uncertainly holding old rifles or bits of pipes. Most of them were young, no more than a few years older than himself. “We need the stretcher over here,” Pete called out. A young woman appeared, pushing an old stretcher, its wheels screeching in protest. She had long brown hair flowing out behind her and a mousy looking face.

          Whitney lay Tina down on it gently and then stepped back anxiously as the young woman bent over her quickly. Pete stepped up to him, glancing at Clark and Chloe quickly. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

          “We went out to the Kent farm, the one I told you about,” Whitney explained. “We were just trying to get Clark out when we ran into a bit of trouble: Lionel Luthor himself and half the ‘Corps with him.”

          Pete whistled. “And you’d be Clark, right?” he asked shrewdly. Clark nodded. “Why were you even out there in the first place.”

          “It’s a long story,” he said carefully.

          “Whatever,” Pete said, giving him a look, “I’m still gonna hear it. He glanced at Whitney and then at Tina. “Sarah,” he asked, “how does it look?”

          The girl glanced back and shrugged wearily. “She’s been shot, how do you expect it to look?” she asked, tying her hair back in a quick ponytail. “The bullet’s still in her arm, so I’m going to have to dig it out. If you’d gotten me anesthetic, like I’d asked, this would be easier.”

          “It was either that or food,” Pete said grimly.

          “Mmm,” she shrugged. “At least she’s already passed out then. That should save our eardrums.” She bent back over Tina and probed at the wound for a moment. “Too bad we just can’t ask them for supplies, instead of having to steal everything,” she mumbled. “Well, it’s not too deep; I should be able to get it out. It’s not going to be pretty though.”

          “Just take care of it,” Pete told her. Sarah shrugged and began to push Tina back to the rear of the building. Whitney started after her, but Pete took his arm and pulled him back. “Better if you don’t watch,” he told him simply. Whitney looked after Tina and then turned back, looking drained.

          “Is she, like, a doctor?” Chloe asked quietly.

          Pete glanced at her, amused. “Sarah? No, just the closest thing we have. We stole some pre-med books a while ago; she’s the only one who could make heads or tails of them. She’s not much on the bed-side manner, but she’s gotten pretty good at that sort of thing.” He gave her a half-hearted smile. “She’s had a lot of practice.”

          He moved over to Whitney then and put his hand on his shoulder. “Look, why don’t you get some rest. You did good, let Sarah take care of her from here.”

          Whitney pushed away from him, looking at him angrily. “I did good? How? What part of that was good?”

          “You got away from the ‘Corps with only one person injured,” he pointed out. “That seems like pretty good work to me.”

          Whitney stared at him and then turned away. “You don’t know anything,” he said bitterly. He walked back to the car and leaned against it, facing away from them. Pete stared after him.

          “Something happened he didn’t expect,” Clark explained quickly. “He just needs some time to think about it.”

          “Yeah, okay,” Pete nodded. “Well, while that’s happening, why don’t we start with you two?”

          “Us?” Clark asked.

          “Mostly you though,” Chloe commented. She sighed. “You know the worst thing about hanging with you, Clark? On the top ten most wanted, you’re like, all of them. I don’t get any recognition at all.”

          “She’s right,” Pete agreed. “Oh, I want to talk to General Lane’s niece all right, but you’re something different,” he said, staring hard at Clark. “I’ve never seen them get this worked up over one person. I don’t even get this much attention.”

          “Lucky me,” Clark said dryly.

          “Look, you got one of my friends shot,” Pete remarked, “humor I don’t need from you. Answers are more like it.”

          “That’s complicated,” he said quickly.

          “Well, we’ve got the time,” he smiled. Just then an alarm started to ring in the corner of the building. Pete snapped around, staring at it. “Or maybe we don’t,” he muttered. He snatched up his gun and ran started to walk quickly towards the door.

          “What is it?” Clark asked, following after him. “What’s happening?”

          “Proximity alarm,” Pete said tersely. “We’ve got spotters outside; they ring that if they see anyone coming.” He waved towards the ceiling and immediately someone killed the lights. Everyone melted back into the shadows, hiding once more. Pete walked over to the doors they’d driven in through and stood beside them. Clark followed after him. Someone bumped into him from behind and he turned around, seeing Chloe. She bent over and picked up a length of pipe, hefting it. She saw him looking and smiled quickly, tightening her grip on it. He gave her a reassuring look and turned back.

          “It’s only one alarm,” Pete was explaining, “so it’s not a raid. Might just be someone nosing around, or then again, it might not be.” He slid a tiny slot on the wall aside and stared through it. Then he shut it quickly and pried back a hidden panel. Flipping something inside it, he stepped back as the doors swung open noiselessly. A car edged in hurriedly, moving forwards almost before the doors were open wide enough to fit it. Surprisingly, it was a sports-car, sleek, powerful, and expensive looking. Its engine hummed loudly as it parked by the LuthorCorp’s vehicle. The door creaked open and someone stepped out quickly, staring around.

          Pete snapped the switch down, closing the doors, and stepped out, his face mottled with rage. “Are you insane?” he almost screamed. “You took that car here! Why didn’t you just send your father a memo about where you were going?”

          “With the amount of time I had to get away, I might as well have,” the young man snapped. As the lights flicked on, Clark felt his stomach lurch as he saw him. He was wearing a suit that though badly rumpled, looked like it might have been even more expensive than his car. He was lean, with a kind of hard-edged awareness to him. His wavy red hair stood out starkly against his pale skin.

          “Did you think it was easy to make up a sudden excuse and get away?” he snapped, staring at Pete. “Especially with what just happened at the farm. He’s in a rage, I’ve never seen him this mad.” He glanced around wearily, “I don’t know what he’s going to do when he asks for me and doesn’t…” he trailed off, his eyes on Clark.

          Clark could only stare back. “Lex?” he asked, stunned.

          Lex Luthor seemed frozen for a moment and then snapped his head around to Pete. “You brought it here?!” he yelled. “How on earth did you… God… Where did you find it?”

          “Find what?” Pete asked, staring from Clark to Lex. “Wait a minute, what do you mean by ‘it’?”

          “Lex, I don’t believe it,” Clark stared. “You’ve got hair, how did that…”

          “You speak English?” Lex went pale. “How much do you know about us?” he mumbled. Then he recovered and took a step back, “Are you here for the other one?”

          “Other one?” Chloe said, staring at Clark.

          “Somebody better start explaining what’s going on,” Pete snapped, holding up his gun quickly. He looked from Lex to Clark, seemingly unsure of who to aim at.

          “He’s an alien, Pete,” Lex said quickly. “Just like the one that came down fourteen years ago.”

          “Exactly like, actually,” Clark said, recovering. He stared at Lex angrily. “Why is your father so interested in my parent’s farm? What’s he hiding?”

          “Fourteen years ago?” Pete repeated. “Wait, the meteor shower?”

          “Pete, shoot him now,” Lex said urgently. “He’s dangerous, he can’t be trusted.”

          “What about you?” Clark exclaimed. “You’re part of this aren’t you? In this with your father!”

          “Pete!” Lex yelled.

          “I’m not shooting anyone until I hear the truth about all this,” Pete yelled at him, stepping away. He glared at both Clark and Lex, sizing them both up. He seemed to be unsure on who to start on first.

          “You,” he said settling on Clark. “He said you’re an alien? I didn’t hear you deny it.”

          Clark hesitated, aware of how many people were staring at him, not the least of all, Whitney. “It’s true,” he finally admitted.

          Pete swallowed and glanced at Lex again, and then he looked back at Clark. “It’s true,” he said quietly to himself. “That’s why they’re after you? How? How did they find out?”

          “You’ll have to ask Lex that,” Clark said dryly. Lex stared back at him, his face unfathomable.

          “Well?” Pete asked after a moment.

          Lex sighed and finally said, “Because fourteen years ago, we recovered the first alien to land here.”

          Dead silence met his response. Clark had been expecting it, but it still sent a nauseas lurch through his stomach. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chloe staring at him, looking concerned. Evidently she realized what that meant about his ‘other’ self in this world.

          “What have you been doing with him?” he asked.

          Lex regarded him coolly. “Studying him,” he replied casually.

          “I bet you have,” Chloe snarled suddenly. Lex glanced at her and then away, dismissing her.

          “Alright,” Pete said quickly, now looking at Clark with more alarm. “What are you doing here? You come for this other one?” Lex pricked up his ears in interest as well as everyone else in the room.

          “I’m not saying another word until I know why he’s here,” Clark demanded, pointing at Lex accusingly. He glared at Whitney. “I thought you said these people hated Luthorcorp?”

          “I did,” he said, still looking bewildered.

          “Then what’s he doing here?”

          “Because if you measured out drop for drop every bit of hate for my father in this room,” Lex said quietly, “mine would be an ocean.”

          “I called him Clark,” Whitney said. “On the phone before, remember? He’s the one who set this place up, with Pete. He’s been helping us for a long time. Who do you think got me my computers?” he added. Clark could only stare at him, his mind tripping over the phrase; he’s been helping us…

          “Lex’s loyalties aren’t in question here,” Pete spoke up suddenly, and then gave Lex a sharp look. “His truthfulness about certain things is another matter.”

          “I only told you what was necessary,” Lex started to say, but Pete cut him off with a gesture. He stared thoughtfully at Clark and then looked over at Whitney. He still seemed to be shaken by what he’d heard.

          “Whitney, you’ve been helping them, right?” Pete asked. Whitney jumped out of his reverie and stammered for a bit before nodding. “Do you trust them?” Pete asked.

          “Pete, you can’t be thinking…” Lex exploded, but Pete glared at him forcefully until Lex snarled, retreating. Clark was a little stunned at that, he’d never know Lex to back down from anyone before, especially not Pete.

          Whitney hesitated, glancing at Clark furtively. Then he quiet voice, he said, “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. First Tina and now this,” he mumbled. “I just don’t know.”

          “Well that’s great,” Chloe said dryly. Clark hissed at her to be quiet, but she rolled her eyes and walked back to the car. She leaned against it idly and waited, watching them. “So now what?” she asked.

          “I was kinda wondering the same thing,” Pete replied, staring at Clark intently.

          Lex came up behind him and whispered close to him. “We have to get him out of here now. He’s nothing but a danger to us. If my father finds him…”

          “How’s he going to do that, Lex,” Clark asked, “unless you tell him?” Lex’s face went dark with rage as he stared at him.

          “And I’m sure Papa Luthor would love to hear about this place then,” Chloe remarked, smirking. “And about your little affiliation with it.” She laughed. “I guess it’s in your best interests then that we don’t get caught, isn’t it?”

          “He’d never believe you,” Lex said, going pale.

          “I don’t think it’s a chance you can take, is it?” Clark asked.

          Lex stared at him blankly for a moment, seemingly in serious thought. Then finally he grimaced and looked away. “He’s right,” he said shortly.

          “We don’t really have to ‘let’ them leave you know,” Pete commented, raising his gun slightly. All around them, the others did the same, staring threateningly at Clark and Chloe.

          Clark raised his eyebrows and glanced at Lex. “Do you want to tell him now or wait until he tries to shoot me and let him figure it out for himself?”

          “Put the gun away, Pete,” Lex said wearily. “We don’t have anything here that could hurt him.”

          “But you said before,” Pete started.

          “I know what I said,” Lex snapped, “I wasn’t thinking! Just put it away.”

          Pete lowered his gun slowly as did everyone else. “So we’re just going to let them stay then? With all of the ‘Corps tearing the town apart to find them? Not to mention the fact that one of them’s from outer space.”

          “I don’t see how we have any other choice,” Lex sighed. “They’d be safer here than out there. And maybe we can keep him from causing any more chaos in the meantime,” he finished snidely. He started to walk away when Clark called after him.

          “You still have some explaining to do,” he said. Lex stopped and stared back at him testily. “What happened here fourteen years ago? With your father and the meteor shower?”

          “Wouldn’t you know better than anyone else?” he asked. Clark took a step back quickly, stunned, but Lex went on. “It was one of your ships after all.”

          “It was the only ship,” Clark replied. Lex blinked and stared back at him.

          “I think I’d like to hear about this too,” Pete spoke up. Chloe and Whitney looked up as well.

          Lex glanced around at them and then nodded finally. “I suppose there’s no way around it,” he said. Then he fixed Clark with a firm look. “But only if you tell us what you’re doing here. Why now after fourteen years?”

          “I’m not too sure of it myself,” Clark admitted, “but I’ll tell you what I can. You just have to believe me,” he sighed.

          Chapter 20

          “Fourteen ago, my father was nothing more than a moderately successful businessman,” Lex started quietly. His voice was bitter and sardonic, but Clark could hear the tight control in it. For a moment, he could forget about how different Lex looked, and remember his friend, who was never one to reveal what he was really feeling.

          “My father had companies all over the country, contracts world-wide, and politicians in his pocket,” Lex listed casually, “but he was nothing special yet. There were worse than him. All that changed the day he arrived in Smallville to buy up the land for his newest factory.”

          Lex had lead Pete, Clark, Chloe, and Whitney into an unoccupied room at the side of the factory that seemed to have been converted into a command center. Street maps and blueprints were scattered over a desk in the center of the room. Lex had chosen a spot at the head of the table, his hands folded on the desk, speaking slowly and clearly to them. Whitney was hunched over the desk, staring blankly into one of the plans as he listened, while Chloe sat backwards in an old office chair, hanging over the back. Pete was leaning against the wall, watching them. Clark stood alone, staring at Lex as he went on.

          “My father had his eye on an old factory on the outskirts of town,” Lex said, glancing at Pete. “Maybe you remember it?”

          “How could I forget?” he breathed out. “Ross Cream Corn. God, I don’t think that place had made a profit in twenty years, but my dad still wasn’t going to sell it.”

          “Not that day at least,” Lex shrugged. “My father brought me along for the deal. I think he wanted to impress upon me just how he worked. All I remember though was being bored,” he laughed. “I wandered out into the fields by the factory and came across-“

          “A Smallville Scarecrow,” Clark finished quietly. He remembered hearing this before. Lex stared at Clark in astonishment.

          “The football team still does that,” Chloe spoke up, “but nowadays they don’t wait for a game, they just do it whenever they’re bored.”

          “How do you know about that?” Lex asked.

          “Because you told me two years ago,” he said. Lex blinked, his eyes widening. “Go on,” Clark told him. “That was when the meteor shower started.”

          “Yes…” Lex recovered slowly. “I heard them first. It was a whistling sound, like something you’d expect to hear in a cartoon. The sound just kept getting louder, becoming a roar. I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from until the first of the meteors broke through the clouds overhead. It flew past the factory and crashed about a quarter mile away. I think I was too frightened to run away, I just stared at where it had landed until I realized that I was still hearing that roaring sound. Then one after another, more started to fall, till it looked like the entire sky was bleeding.” Pete and Whitney nodded silently, each of them caught up in their own memories of that day.

          “I probably would’ve just waited there to die until something happened to shake me up,” Lex smirked. “I was too terrified to run. Then a meteor came hurtling through the air straight overhead. I think it would’ve passed right over me, but before it could reach the field, it collided in mid-air with another fragment. The explosion was… louder than anything I’d ever heard. Bits and pieces were scattered from the explosion, reigning down all over the field. One of them struck the ‘Scarecrow’ as you called him, and turned him into a torch. When he started screaming, I ran off. I can still hear him sometimes,” he said and passed a hand over his face wearily.

          “When I ran out of the fields, everyone had left the factory by then, trying to find some shelter I imagine. But not my father,” he said quietly. His voice lost its bitter tone and he seemed generally puzzled. “Out of nowhere, he picked me up and carried me inside that same factory we’d come here to buy and we waited, clutching each other. I don’t think I’d ever been more terrified in my life. I doubt he felt any different. But I remember he held me close and tried to comfort me.” He let out a breath, eyebrows knotted together in confusion for a moment. Then he shook his head and continued in that same bitter, sardonic tone. “He tried I think. He kept mumbling something over and over again, but I don’t remember what it was now. Still, it was the closest he ever got to being a real father to me. I think it says something that it took an almost biblical event to make him act like a father, no matter how briefly.”

          “So your dad wasn’t father of the year,” Chloe said quietly. “This is news? I mean, we know who he is, somehow I doubt anyone was thinking he’d act any different to family.”

          “Just a little proof that I’ve got as much, or more, reason to hate my father as much as anyone else here,” Lex told her. He looked around the room, his gaze lingering on Pete. “I want everyone here to know where my loyalties are.” Pete looked at him and didn’t say anything.

          “Anyway,” Lex went on after a moment, “when the meteor shower was over, my father found a ride to the hospital. Neither one of us was seriously injured, but I think we were both in shock. The hospital was overcrowded, as you can imagine; the dead and injured lying everywhere with more coming in every minute. But my father was still my father, and managed to get a room for me and a doctor to look at us both. He was just finishing examining me when an aide of my father’s ran into the room.”

          His face tightened together into an expression that was almost, but not quite a grin. “I’m not sure how he found us in all that chaos, but he did. He said he had incredible news,” he laughed.

          “Aliens had landed,” Chloe said dryly.

          “How?” Pete asked. “I mean, aliens don’t come down regularly come down with meteor showers, you know?”

          “It is a little unbelievable,” Whitney said quietly.

          In spite of himself, Clark laughed a little. They all looked at him and he felt himself going red. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s just I’ve spent most of my life thinking the same thing.”

          “Why Smallville?” Lex asked suddenly. Clark looked at him and shrugged.

          “I honestly don’t know. It’s where the ship was programmed to land.”

          “But why? Who programmed it?”

          Clark spread his hands helplessly. “I wish I knew,” he said truthfully. “My parents maybe, who knows. Whoever did it only left me a ship and bunch of questions.”

          Lex sprang up from his seat, going pale. His hands pressed down tensely on the table top. “You have a ship? A functional ship?”

          “Yes,” Clark said slowly.

          “Take me to it. The ship we recovered was broken, useless. We could never even get part of it open to examine it. If yours is functional, we could learn so much…”

          “Or your father could learn so much,” Chloe pointed out.

          Lex stared at her and then sank back down into his seat. “She’s right, of course,” he said quietly. “I could never take a look at it without him finding out. It’s just…” he trailed off. “An actual alien piece of technology… My father built an empire on a fried piece of scrap; you can imagine what I could do with a functioning one.” He paused again and then smiled bitterly. “Sorry about that, that must have been the Luthor in me talking.” Pete eyed him warily for a moment and then looked back at Clark.

          “How many of you are there?” Whitney spoke up. “I mean, is this like an invasion or something?”

          Clark stared at him strangely. “A what?” he almost laughed.

          “Look at it from our perspective,” Pete told him, not amused.

          “No, it’s not an invasion,” Clark assured them, his smile quickly dying. “I don’t know of any others like me. I don’t even know why I was sent here. My ship is functioning sure, but lets just say that its owner’s manual isn’t exactly written in English.” He stared at them, suddenly feeling all the loneliness and isolation he’d experienced growing up different. The fear of using his powers, the fear of being found out and taken away from his parents. “I don’t remember anything about where I come from,” he said quietly. “Who knows, maybe I was sent here to invade, but that doesn’t matter. This is my home now, Smallville. I was raised here,” he said, and Lex looked up sharply, “I’m not looking to destroy it.”

          “When did your ship land?” Lex asked him intently.

          “Fourteen years ago, the day of the meteor shower.”

          Lex sat back, stunned. “There were two ships?”

          “No, there was just one, mine.” He stared around at them, and then went on quickly, trying to get through it as quickly as possible. “My ship landed during the meteor shower. I have to guess there was some connection between the two, but there’s no way of knowing. My parents, the Kents, found me in a field near the ship. They’d never had a child of their own, so they decided to take me in. They adopted me, raised me as their own, and tried to give me as much of a normal life as they could. It wasn’t easy keeping my powers a secret, but we’ve managed pretty well. Only one other person knows so far.” He shrugged a bit and glanced at Pete. “That would be you.” Pete jumped, his eyes wide.

          “That’s not what happened,” Lex choked out suddenly. He glared at Clark, swallowing. “You’re lying.”

          “I’m not,” Clark shook his head. “It all happened, I remember it, but for some reason, none of it’s the same here. And I don’t know why!” he said, getting agitated. He turned around, staring at the wall for a moment. Then he turned back to them, shaking his head. “Yesterday, I was walking home from school and… something happened. I was pulled here, and I don’t know anything about the why or the how. It all happened so quickly. One minute I was in the middle of a storm and the next, here I am. Sun is shining, lakes are where I don’t remember them, and Luthorcorp has taken over.”

          There was dead silence for a moment as Pete, Whitney, and Lex all stared at him. Then Chloe broke through it by saying, “Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction too when this guy came out of nowhere and told me we were best friends even though I’d never seen him before in my life.”

          “Did you believe him?” Pete asked weakly, looking from Clark to her.

          “Would you at first?”

          “What you’re describing sounds like parallel worlds,” Lex said slowly. He slumped back in his chair, looking blankly at the ceiling. Then he looked up sharply at Clark. “Can you prove it though?”

          “When the soldiers came for me in the town,” Clark said, thinking, “it was because someone spotted me, right? Because I look just like the person you have locked up, the other me?”

          Lex frowned. “There are some differences,” he said tersely.

          “Ooh, the picture,” Chloe spoke up. “Show them the picture,” she said to him. “Worked with me.”

          “A picture convinced you of all this?” Pete asked as Clark dug his wallet out.

          “Well that and just after he showed me it the ‘Corps came out of nowhere and started shooting at us,” she remarked. Then her grin faded and she looked away. “And I know liars. Clark’s not.”

          Clark held up the picture in his hands, half-listening to Chloe. It seemed so long ago that he’d gotten this, even though it only been the other day. They’d been in school and Lana had… He suddenly started as he realized that Lana was in the picture. She was part of LuthorCorps in this world; of course Lex would know her. He looked up from the photo and saw them all waiting for him. He hesitated and then finally handed it to Pete, figuring that he didn’t have any choice in it.

          Pete took the photo and then almost dropped it as he got a look at it. “That’s me!” he said, jerking his head up to look at Clark. Clark nodded, but Pete didn’t see him, he was too engrossed in studying the picture. Whitney stood up, craning over Pete’s shoulder to see it. Lex remained seated, hardly taking his eyes off Clark.

          “It’s funny,” Chloe said, looking at the picture. “I think I look better here than in the photo, but you don’t,” she told Pete. “Clark’s you looks like more fun.”

          Pete flushed and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t have a lot of fun these days.”

          Lex leaned forwards and picked the picture up at last. He studied it for a moment, his expression a mystery. Then he looked up at Clark and flicked the picture around so it faced him. “Who’s this girl?” he asked, tapping the photo.

          “Lana Lang,” he said quietly. Pete started, staring at the picture again. “I’ll be dammed,” he said quietly. “I didn’t even recognize her.”

          “That’s probably because she’s smiling,” Lex said dryly to him. Then he looked back at Clark and tilted his head, regarding him again. “Is she a friend of yours?” he asked. Clark nodded glumly. “Are you close?” Lex asked in that same innocent tone. Clark sighed and nodded again. Lex seemed to consider this for a moment, and then he started to laugh. The photo slipped out of his fingers as he leaned back, practically holding his sides. He was laughing so hard he almost fell out of his chair. “I don’t think it’s very funny,” Clark said testily.

          “I don’t think I get the joke,” Chloe remarked as well, frowning at Lex.

          Eventually, Lex managed to get himself under control. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, gasping for air. He smirked at Clark, wiping away tears in his eyes. “You know, I’m not one to believe in a God, but something with a sense of humor had to have planned this.” Clark looked away, his hand rubbing his shoulder where Lana had shot him. Lex caught the movement and smiled at it. “I see you two have already met.”

          “So who is this girl already?” Chloe asked angrily. Then she seemed to catch herself and shrugged it off like it wasn’t important. “I mean, what’s the big joke?”

          “In a minute,” Lex said, still smiling. “I think I should finish with my story first. Lana’s a part of it after all, and I think it’s something we all need to hear,” he said, his eyes on Clark. “Now where was I?”

          “My ship just landed,” Clark told him. “What did you do with me… I mean, him.”

          “Well to be completely honest, no one knew what you were at first,” Lex smiled. “This was 1987, it could’ve been the Russians for all we could guess. The only things we knew were that was a busted spaceship that had plowed a furrow ten feet below mainstreet and one very shaken little passenger. Even looking at him didn’t give us any hints.” He pointed at Clark. “As you can see, they’re almost identical to us.”

          “The ship landed in town?” Clark asked weakly.

          Lex smiled and nodded. “In front of close to twenty witnesses,” he said. “I think it was also in front of one of my father’s building, thought I’m not sure about that. It wasn’t exactly a text book landing. Anyway, my father claimed you’d landed on his property and confiscated you.” He laughed again. “You were Luthorcorp property from day one.” It was all Clark could to do to keep from retching. All his life he’d been afraid of being exposed, but here there’d been no chance for his ‘other’ self.

          “Hold on,” Whitney spoke up suddenly. He stared at Lex and asked, “If there were that many witnesses, how come we’ve never heard about any of this. People would have talked.”

          “Because when my father’s people took one look at what was left of that ship, and realized just how ‘foreign’ our visitor was, my father made very certain that there wouldn’t be any witnesses left to talk,” he said grimly. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. “Ten of the witnesses had been injured that day, they all, sadly, succumbed to their minor bumps and bruises within a few weeks time. The town had already had a national catastrophe; who was going to notice a few extra corpses? Five of the witnesses worked for my father anyways, so he could easily arrange for them to be transferred to more secure locations, to be silenced or paid off later based on how corruptible they were. Seven people in town my father bought outright. Of course,” he said, “it didn’t matter if they took the money, within two years time, they had all mysteriously died.”

          “That’s the Lionel Luthor I know,” Pete said savagely.

          “You know an awful lot about this,” Clark remarked to Lex.

          Lex waved the comment away. “I’ve had a life-time to study up on my father and his secrets. Besides, its interesting reading.”

          Chloe seemed to be struggling to with something. “So he killed everyone who knew about it? I mean, everyone who was there to see it come down?”

          “Not everyone,” Lex allowed. “There was one other witness he left alive, two if you count me.”

          “But you’re his…”

          “And what would he do if he knew what I was doing right now?” he asked her. “Some secrets are more important than blood in his eyes.” She blinked and sat back in her seat.

          “Who’d he leave?” Pete asked.

          “A girl,” Lex shrugged. “She was about four years old. I think he let her live because she was practically catatonic when they brought her in. She’d seen her own parents die during the meteor shower. It was a bit too much for her, she went into shock and the doctors weren’t very hopeful that she’d ever come out of it. Maybe my father spied a humanity story in her, but he did seem to take pity on her. She didn’t seem to have any relatives who wanted her, so he took her in, got her the best doctors he could find and slowly brought her back. Of course after that, my father did everything he could to shape her into a Luthor.” He laughed bitterly. “I think he’d already been convinced that I’d never be anything more than a disappointment to him by then. Lord knows I’d been trying.”

          “Wait a minute,” Pete spoke up. “If he took her in, that would make her…”

          “The esteemed head of LuthorCorps herself,” Lex laughed.

          “Lana,” Clark said quietly. Now he really felt sick. He had to brace himself against the table just to keep himself upright. Lana had been raised by Lionel Luthor? It was impossible, but he’d seen her for himself just a few hours ago. “She hates me,” he said weakly.

          “Yes,” Lex agreed, no longer smiling. Something like sympathy was on his face. “Her parents were killed in the meteor shower. Rather than help her deal with the loss, my father’s chosen to keep that hate alive, even stoking the fires from time to time. In his mind it makes her better warden.”

          “Warden?” Pete asked. “She’s the one in charge of it, I mean, him?” he corrected himself, looking at Clark.

          “Until recently,” he said, looking at Clark as well. “She’s in charge of something else now.”

          “Hunting me down?” Clark demanded, staring up at him.

          “No, that was just an accident. No one thought you’d come to the farm.”

          “Why?” Clark gripped the side of the table, the wood starting to splinter around his fingers. “Why is my parent’s farm so important?” Lex didn’t answer, just sat there staring at him blankly. Chloe climbed out of her seat and backed away quickly. Whitney stared at Clark, unable to move. “Why!?” Clark shouted at Lex. “What are you hiding from me?” In rage, he picked up the table and threw it against the wall, shattering it into pieces. Pete jumped forward, as if to subdue him, but then seemed to realize just how pointless trying that would be. Whitney fell of his chair, scrambling away from Clark. Only Lex seemed to be unconcerned. He returned Clark’s enraged look with a cool one.

          “I lied to you before,” he finally remarked. He picked a splinter of wood from his pants and tossed it aside, unhurried. “I lied when I said that my father’s business was built on you and your ship. In truth, it’s been built on her,” he said, catching Clark’s eye as he emphasized the last word.

          “The day of the meteor shower, there was an accident. That sounds redundant, but you have to realize the scale of this; all the people who died, all the destruction, better that, better ten times than that, against that accident.” He shook his head forcefully. “It should’ve never happened. No one should be given that much power,” he swore.

          Clark stared at him, his anger falling away and leaving only a cold sense of dread in him. “What happened?”

          “A couple was driving home from town the day when the meteor shower caught them,” he told Clark slowly. “They were trapped on the road, no shelter in sight. They tried to make it to safety, but a fragment smashed down near their car. The shockwave destroyed the car, killed the man, and crippled the woman. If that had been all it had done to her, it would have been a mercy. Search parties eventually found her and she was taken to the triage center set up at the hospital. The same hospital my father and I were at. Her body was twisted, she was raving; doctors thought it was from the pain. It wasn’t until someone actually bothered to listen to her that they realized they were wrong. Well, partly wrong,” he allowed. “It wasn’t physical pain, it was mental.”

          “Her mind was… being overwhelmed by everything happening around her. She could literally feel all the hurt and death of everyone in that hospital. What’s more she could feel everyone else outside of that.” He shuddered for a moment and then went on. “It wasn’t telepathy; it was more like all the walls in the world had fallen away for her. She could see everything, everyone. You could tell her a name, and she could tell you what that person had for breakfast this morning, every morning since the day they were born. It was like she was omniscient. She could even tell you what someone was going to do with a frightening degree of accuracy.”

          “That’s impossible,” Pete said, going pale. “No body can do that. It would have to make her like… God or something.”

          “A church of which my father would be the first member,” Lex smirked. The grin never touched his eyes though. He had a haunted look to him. “We’ve tested her abilities, trying to find some limit to them. So many tests… So far,” he paused and said, “there doesn’t seem to be any. Nothing is hidden from her. Nothing.”

          Pete sat back, swallowing forcefully. “She knows about us then,” he breathed out. “My God, she knows about everything; me and you, this place, all of us,” he said, glancing around the room.

          “Yes she does,” Lex told him. “If my father ever asked her,” he snapped his fingers suddenly, “it would be over just like that.” He laughed weakly. “Now you can see the sword I’ve lived under for the last year.”

          “What happened to her?” Chloe asked Lex in a whisper, her eyes on Clark. He could only stand there, staring blankly ahead, a tiny part of him listening to Lex, the rest of his mind was shuddering back in sick horror. He remembered the voice in his head, the hands that had cradled him so gently on the farm, the warmth that had seemed so, so familiar.

          “My father took her out of the hospital and built a lab to hold her, and you,” he added, nodding at Clark. “He calls her his Oracle,” he said bitterly. “His own private crystal ball. That’s how my father became so powerful. With the kind of information she can give him, there’s no limit to what he can do. He could rule this world if he wanted. Perhaps he already does.”

          “Why are you telling us this now?” Pete asked, still shaken.

          “I kept you in the dark because frankly, ignorance is bliss. There’s nothing we could’ve done about her anyways. She’s too well guarded.” He looked at Clark for a moment, and his expression saddened momentarily. “And besides, listening to your story, it seems clear to me that it was just an accident that made her. Something was supposed to land near her and husband that day, but it wasn’t supposed to be a meteor rock.”

          Clark looked up at him blankly. The warmth, the familiarity in that touch. How could he have forgotten?

          “The woman,” Lex said, “the Oracle, her name was Martha Kent.”

          Chapter 21

          Lionel Luthor paused outside the door to his study and mentally braced himself for a moment. He’d just finished an exhaustive meeting with the heads of his munitions plants overseas and before that had been forced to renegotiate a contract with Queen Shipping. He hadn’t planned on either; both had sprung up unexpectedly and had to be taken care of immediately. The plant managers had been using cheaper materials to boost their profits at the cost of quality. Lionel wasn’t averse to such practices per say, but a certain level of quality had to be maintained. Even worse had been Queen, that damn, arrogant upstart, trying to insert a clause in the contract at the last minute to force Luthorcorp to pay premium costs when they shipped over a certain level. Their discussion had ended in a shouting match and it would probably be weeks before they could go back to the table.

          His head pounded, not from his exhaustion or the argument, but from the sheer, irritating pettiness of it all. It was galling that in the midst of a crisis of this magnitude, he was forced to waste his time disciplining his aides and negotiating rates. He would have gladly passed such trivial things onto Lex, but of course, his son had chosen the most inopportune time to make himself scarce. He’d only left a garbled message to explain his absence, something about a girl and a paternity suit. So much for hoping the boy had finally learned a bit of responsibility and restraint, he thought bitterly. At this rate, Lex would be as bad as that Wayne boy in Gotham.

          Still, Lionel felt troubled by the meetings. Years ago, he realized, before She came into his life, he would have recognized the signs that such trouble was brewing and headed them off quickly. If you couldn’t think twelve moves ahead of your opponent, the only place for you was as a stepping stone in the world of business. Had he become too dependent on her abilities over the years? It raised some concerns certainly. With her otherwise distracted by this mess with the second alien, he was without her guidance at the moment. Was this a vulnerability? He resolved in the future to pay closer attention when he could to other matters and not let such things happen again.

          Running a hand through his wild hair, he straightened and sighed. There was no longer any putting this off. Taking a breath, he opened the door quietly and stepped inside, listening to the door swing shut behind him. A young man looked up at him from where he had been examining the books against the wall. He was dressed in slacks and a tweed jacket, looking every inch the professor. To call him slim would have been a gross understatement, skeletal came closer to the truth. He looked like he had been made out sticks, like some puppet or scarecrow, all bony points and angles. The skin on his face was stretched out over his cheek bones, making the hollows of his cheeks look like deep gashes. His sandy blond hair looked to have the consistency of straw.

          “Ahh, Dr. Crane,” Lionel said jovially, not meaning it for a second, “so glad you could make it on such short notice.”

          Jonathon Crane favored him with a too-large smile, the sort of things you only saw on sharks or other predators. For a moment, Lionel wondered what the doctor’s patients thought when they saw that smile. “Well I do have your jet to thank for that,” Crane responded, nodding at him deferentially. His voice was sing-song and educated, but slightly mocking at the same time. There was also an undercurrent to it that always set Lionel’s teeth on edge, like knives scraped across a blackboard. “It’s a lovely plane by the way, and I enjoyed talking to your pilots. I love pilots, they face so many fears everyday; fear of heights, of equipment malfunction, of storms, of killing their passengers, of being killed by their passengers... It’s a wonder they’re able to cope with it all.”

          “It’s always good to hear your unique viewpoints,” Lionel remarked dryly. “I was afraid life away from Gotham University might have dulled you. I heard you were working at a psychiatric ward now.”

          Crane snickered, looking around the office again. “Oh Arkham’s not a psychiatric ward,” he said quietly. “People go to a hospital to be healed. People are sent to Arkham for something quite different.” Lionel raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Crane was regarding his books again, running one finger up and down the rows set against the wall. “You changed your study from the last time I was here,” he commented. “There were fewer books.” He seemed to consider this for a moment. “And if I remember, you’d changed it then as well, from the first time I’d been in it. I’m not sure if there is a fear of not changing, of stagnation. I’ll have to give that some thought,” he murmured. Then he inclined his head and spun around quickly. Lionel was again startled with the sheer vitality in his movements. Despite looking like he’d weigh ninety pounds soaking wet, the energy in his movements was frightening.

          “But what I am saying?” he chided himself. “You didn’t set that wonderful jet for me so that we could discuss your redecorating habits. No, this must be about my star patient. How is Lana doing?” he asked brightly. “It’s been years since I’ve seen her. You never let me keep in contact with the poor girl,” he scolded Lionel, “and a doctor has a right to check up on his patients after all.”

          “She’s not your patient, doctor,” Lionel said quietly. “I’ve seen your patients. But yes, this is about Lana. You have some explaining to do.” Crane looked at him for a moment and then grunted irritably and sat down on the rich leather sofa in the corner. He took out a pair of thin glasses and began to polish them carefully, avoiding Lionel’s eye.

          “I was rather expecting this was going to happen,” he said, a touch of indignation in his voice. “It was all in my report, there’s no use pulling me away from my experiments about it now.”

          “Today Lana came close to costing me a great deal,” Lionel remarked. Crane sniffed and went on polishing his glasses. “What’s more distressing is that she came within a hairs-width of disobeying my orders.”

          “And let me guess,” Crane supplied, “you’ve started to notice a decline in her work as well?”

          “Yes, yes,” he said, glaring at the doctor. “Well? Care to explain it?”

          Crane shrugged like it wasn’t his concern. “I did warn you this would happen.”

          Lionel’s control started to slip. “You promised me you could produce what I wanted!” he raged. “A perfect guard! Someone I could trust with this! And now you expect to sit here and tell me you ‘expected this to happen?’” If Crane was frightened he didn’t show it. On the contrary, there was a certain degree of professional curiosity in his face now as he watched Lionel.

          “Hmm,” he said clinically. “You don’t take disappointment well, do you? I figured that with your son, you’d be used to it by now.”

          “Doctor,” Lionel warned, his teeth grating together.

          “Oh very well,” he exclaimed. He put away his glasses and gave Lionel a serious look. “I am artist, Mr. Luthor; one that sculpts, yes, but I don’t work with stone. The psyche continuously grows, and it has been three years since my last session with Lana. She will have changed a bit in that time. Some of her tighter programming will have naturally started to fray.”

          “It was a difficult thing you wanted me to do after all,” he explained, getting up to walk around the room. “The girl was practically a vegetable when you handed her over. Bringing her back from that took time and no small amount of skill if I may say. Installing you as her father figure wasn’t particularly difficult, but removing certain natural restrictions on her, well…” he hesitated. “Despite what you may have heard, it’s not that easy to reprogram a child. It’s much easier when they’re over a certain age. You need a well defined ego to break I think, just so you can be certain when you’ve completely done it. Now if I’d had her from birth I could’ve given you exactly what you wanted, a remorseless, perfect machine.”

          “You know that’s not what I want for her,” Lionel warned him quietly. Crane spread his hands apologetically.

          “I certainly don’t remember hearing any complaints three years ago,” he remarked, eyeing Lionel wickedly. “She wasn’t the confused, frightened little girl any more, I’d taken care of that.”

          “If you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?” Lionel pointed out.

          Crane frowned and then shrugged. “Point.” He hesitated, thinking for a moment and then said, “Well, I suppose I can take another look at her then. It has been three years, and she is one of my better works, after all.” He laughed suddenly. “You could consider it like professional courtesy: like she’s still under warranty.” He laughed at his joke for a moment.

          Lionel didn’t join in. “How long will it take?”

          “Give me a few months with her and she’ll-“

          “I don’t have a few months!” Lionel snapped, his fist crashing down against his desk. “I’ll be lucky if I have a few days! I need her in control now!”

          “Psychology isn’t an immediate science,” Crane remarked lightly. “Lana is rather susceptible to my suggestions, but no one’s that malleable.”

          “Can’t you do anything to speed it up?”

          “I could always pump her full of drugs,” Crane snapped irritably. “She’d do anything you told her to, yes, but she’d be lucky to come out of it knowing her own name.”

          “Of course, she’s older now,” he remarked, thinking of something. “Certain techniques will have more effect. And if you could be persuaded to allow certain… other techniques we discussed the last time, I could definitely speed up the process.” A dreadful sort of light was in his eyes as he toyed with the idea. “I haven’t had many chances to experiment with that, you know. University officials tend to be rather nosy and the Arkham staff is almost as bad. But with private sessions, I think I could get you the results you need.” He smiled that too big grin and waited.

          “One of these days, Doctor,” Lionel said slowly, “someone is going to put you in a cell right beside your patients.”

          Crane sniffed, amused, and turned back to Lionel. “I enjoy my work,” he commented.

          Lionel stared at him for a moment, the silence weighing heavily. Finally Crane went on in a much more even tone. “I’ve given Lana certain… medication to take in case she started to become confused again. As long as she follows my directions, she should be able to handle whatever you need to her. After that, when we have the leisure of time, I can give her back to you anyway you please.”

          “Are you sure she’ll be able to handle this?”

          “Well I don’t know the situation,” he remarked lightly, “but I do know my patient. I did make you one dangerous young woman after all.”

          Lionel considered that, strumming his hands on the desk lightly. “Afterwards, you’re sure you can help her?” he asked after a moment.

          Crane nodded, smiling in a way that Lionel found in no way reassuring. “I’ve perfected a few new techniques in the last three years. And I’ve already laid the frame work, haven’t I? In a few months time, she won’t even remember feeling a moment’s doubt.”

          “Good,” Lionel said tersely. He leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Perhaps its better she didn’t remember any of this,” he mused. “When this is over, I was thinking of reassigning her, and as she is now, she’d resent it. Yes, have her forget everything,” he decided. “Her parents, the alien, everything.”

          “There won’t be much left of her then,” Crane commented.

          “That’s the point,” Lionel told him. “She’ll be working closely with me, and she doesn’t need to be troubled by all those bad memories in the future.” He glanced at his watch and then looked up at Crane pointedly. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this short now. It’s been a rather long day.”

          “It’s your time and you’re plane,” the professor smiled. “Ah. We can discuss payment next time?” he asked somewhat intently.

          “Of course, doctor.” He stood up and winced, feeling the muscles in his back twinge. Rubbing it, he looked at Crane. “I’ll have someone escort you out in a moment. If you’ll excuse me.” Crane nodded and Lionel left the room quickly, his feigned good temper falling away as he left the room.

          Crane might have been the one of the most skilled psychiatrist and behavioral scientist in America, but sometimes Lionel wasn’t sure the doctor was any saner than his patients. The only reason he had ever put up with his dangerous habits was that he did get results, and could be trusted to remain silent about certain things. Not that Crane was particularly trustworthy, Lionel thought. It was just that the doctor had enough dirty secrets of his own to be able to appreciate the benefits of mutual silence.

          But Crane was a separate problem, and not in the least bit important at the moment. What was important was capturing the second alien, and for that he needed Lana in complete control. He cursed Lex again for leaving so suddenly. Just when he seemed to be turning around, he pulls this, he raged. Without Lex here, he had been too busy to check up on Lana until now. He worried for a moment, thinking back to the farm. She’d been unusually quiet after the alien and the others had escaped. He had expected her to be in a rage, or ashamed; to show some emotion at least. But she’d just sat like a statue the entire ride back, staring blankly ahead. When he’d ordered her to her room, to wait for him, she’d hardly seemed to respond at all. For a moment, he’d almost thought she’d regressed back to the way she’d first been, all those years ago before he’d given her to Crane. She’d been so distant then, only very rarely aware of what was going on around her.

          He frowned, thinking for a moment. She had been putting herself under a great deal of pressure to capture the alien. Perhaps the shock of a second failure had caused her to revert. Lionel started to walk faster. The last thing he needed was for Lana to have some sort of emotional breakdown at the moment. He cursed her under his breath and hurried on.

          Finally, past the barracks halls for the LuthorCorps soldiers, Lionel arrived at Lana’s door. Pausing at the doorway, he straightened his jacket and then knocked on the door lightly. “Lana,” he said quietly. There was no answer. “Lana, open the door.” Still there was no answer.

          Thinking perhaps a different tact was needed, his lowered his voice to a more gentle tone. “Lana, I’m not upset with you. Today was not your fault. There was no way of knowing he would be there. I don’t blame you at all, do you understand? Lana?” He reached down and tried the handle but it wouldn’t budge. The tiny light above the handle winked red at him. Angrily, he reached over and punched in a quick code into the keypad by the door. All of the doors in the lab had electronic locks, but only a few people knew the master codes for the system. The lock clicked off and he swung the door open.

          Lana’s room was small, hardly more than a dormitory, but it wasn’t cluttered, on the contrary, it was practically empty. There was a neat bed in the corner, its sheets folded crisply, a worn old rug that covered most of the concrete floor, a dresser with a single picture standing up on it, and a full length mirror set in the wall; there was nothing else in the room, including Lana. Lionel stepped inside, glancing around quickly, but it was pointless. It wasn’t like there were many places she could hide in here. Lana was gone.

          Chapter 22

          Chloe woke up suddenly as someone clicked on the light over her. She pulled herself halfway up for a moment, and then moaned and fell back, squeezing her eyes closed. The light was stabbing painfully through her eyelids, making her wince. “It can’t be morning yet,” she muttered, flopping around on the cot.

          “Technically it is,” someone said behind her. She grunted and rolled over, peering out of one eyelid. Whitney was sitting on the other cot, staring at her. When he saw her looking, he gave her a tiny grin. “Sorry about waking you up like that,” he said, “I just figured you’d want something to eat now. Seeing as you didn’t have anything at all last night.”

          Chloe only vaguely remembered the end of last night. Clark and Lex had kept talking throughout the meeting, each asking the other questions about what had happened during the last fourteen years, what was different about each different version of Smallville. It had been interesting, but also a little frightening to hear about how things could have turned out so differently. The two of them had gone on for hours, and at the end, Chloe’s head was swimming. They’d given her and Clark this tiny room at the side of the factory and two cots to sleep on. It seemed that she’d fallen asleep as soon as her head had hit the pillow.

          “You woke me up for breakfast?” she grumbled, drawing her blanket more tightly around herself.

          “Dinner actually. We’re kind of nocturnal around here,” he explained. “We have to be; it’s easier to move around at night. Only a few people are up during the day, and they don’t cook.”

          Chloe yawned and opened her eyes a little wider. “What’s on the menu?” she mumbled, her brain still foggy.

          “Cold, runny eggs and some bacon,” he told her. “All stolen fresh from your friendly neighborhood Luthormart. And your choice of instant coffee, also stolen. Oh and word of advice: don’t have the bacon. Luthormarts tend to ignore those ‘sell by dates’ on a lot of things.”

          “As long as it’s not green,” she mumbled, still wrapped up in blankets.

          “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were,” he said dryly.

          She pulled the blankets back from her face and looked up at him. “Now, you don’t sound bitter,” she commented.

          “Places like that put my dad’s store out of business, remember?”

          “I thought the fire did that,” she said. He gave her an ugly look.

          “Thank you,” he said sarcastically. “I needed to be reminded about that this morning. Now, do you want to get up and eat, or should I just bring it back here and dump it over your head?”

          “Alright,” she said, yawning. Now that Chloe was awake, she did suddenly feel hungry. Starved in fact. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She kicked the blanket off herself and sat up slowly, rubbing her arms. Then she noticed that the cot Whitney was sitting on was empty. “Where’s Clark?” she asked nodding towards it. The cot didn’t even look like it had been slept in.

          Whitney glanced down at the cot and shrugged. “He’s around, I think,” he shrugged. “I haven’t seen him.”

          “Not too concerned about it, huh?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

          “Pete’s keeping an eye on him,” Whitney said, looking away suddenly. “I’ve had… other things on my mind,” he said slowly.

          Chloe nodded, thinking back to Tina. She wanted to ask about her, but Whitney didn’t look like he was very interested in talking about her. “Clark said he wanted to think last night,” she said to fill the moment. “I guess he’s still off doing the big brood.” She hesitated and then looked up at him.

          “What did you think of all that?” she asked. “Last night, I mean. About things being so different where he’s from?” Whitney fidgeted on the cot, tapping his fingers together idly. He seemed to be deliberately avoiding making eye contact. “Come’on,” she said. “You have to have thought about it?”

          “Yeah, I guess I did,” he said quietly. He tapped his fingers together again.

          “Well?” she asked, leaning forwards.

          “It kinda scares me,” he admitted. Chloe sat back, blinking. Of all the responses she’d been expecting, that had been the last. She knew what he meant though. She saw herself, that ‘other’ self in Clark’s picture and shuddered. It was just so unnatural; it wasn’t her, but then it was her, in a way.

          “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to catch his eye.

          “Well, it makes me question a lot of things,” he told her slowly. He tapped his fingers together faster. He looked uncomfortable sitting there, trying to put what he felt into words. “I mean… you go through life, you make choices, some good, some bad, and well, that’s who you are,” he said slowly. “Sometimes you might think: ‘well, who would I be if things had turned out differently?’ but that’s all talk. You don’t really think about it.”

          “Until somebody drops out of the sky and makes you,” she remarked. Whitney nodded a little glumly.

          “What scares me the most though,” he said, “is that there might be more worlds like his out there; different versions of Smallville. Does that mean they’re all… I don’t know… valid or something? Or is there one ‘right’ world: the world that’s supposed to happen? Are the rest of us just mistakes then? Like, something went wrong, and we’re just being left to rot here. ‘Cause it would explain a lot about this place,” he muttered quietly.

          “Lex seems to think we’re a mistake,” she said suddenly, remembering what he’d said at the meeting.

          “I think Lex finds it easier to consider us all one big mistake,” he grumbled. “He’s always hated everything about who he is. In his mind, anything else couldn’t be worse.” He stared off into space, frowning. Then he seemed to think of something and stood up quickly.

          “Uh, we’ve got some things for you,” he said, picking some clothes up off the floor. They were carefully folded up in a stack, and looked to have more things saved from the Fordman’s fire. One of the shirts on the top even looked to have been charred a little on the sleeve. “It’s not much, but we figured you’d want to change.”

          “Thanks,” she said, taking it.

          “We had to guess on sizes,” he admitted. “And most of the stuff is secondhand, at best. They’re clean though, that’s the important thing. Oh and that pile’s Clark’s,” he added, nodding towards another pile on the floor.

          “Thanks,” she said again, smiling at him. She lifted up the charred shirt and stared at it for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a warm shower here, do you?”

          He smiled for a moment. “Shower yes, warm no. There’s an old chemical shower I’ll show you.” He saw her blank look and elaborated. “This place used to be a factory, and if there was an accident, like a worker got sprayed with chemicals, you stood him under a shower and pulled the chain. That’s all. Again, it’s clean, but it’s not exactly heated. And there’s only one for all of us, so you can’t spend all day under it.”

          “Not too much chance of that happening,” she muttered. Then she realized she was being ungrateful and backpedaled. “Sorry, I mean if it weren’t for you guys –“

          “What? If I hadn’t taken you both in, you’d be locked up right now?” he asked, smiling half-heartedly at her. He looked tired, exhausted really. “Maybe you would be, who knows though? Or if Pete hadn’t taken us all in? He didn’t have to do that, you know. We’re nothing but a risk to him, and Lex. Or if you and Clark…” he paused for a moment. “Well a lot of things would be different if it wasn’t for Clark huh?” he asked, his smile slipping away. “Maybe that’s the point of all this.”

          “It’s not his fault,” Chloe told him seriously. He looked up at her, and then shrugged.

          “Maybe that’s the point then. It’s nobody’s fault. It just happened,” he sighed. “And we all just have to live with it.” Chloe stared at him, unable to think of a thing to say.

          “Well on that note, I guess a little more bad news isn’t going to change anything,” he said quickly, in the way that suggested he wanted to get through what he had to say as fast as possible. “We’ve decided to give you this room. We’re making one for Clark too down at the other end of the factory.”

          “My room… right,” she said, glancing around. It was a room in only the most generous use of the word. It had been formed by curtaining off an area against the old wall of the factory. As it was, three of her walls were formed by old blankets and tarps strung on line from the ceiling. It gave very little privacy though, and almost made her feel she was in an old tent. Someone had strung an old halogen lamp on a pipe and hung it over her cot, dangling from the electrical wires hanging from the ceiling. Since there was no tarp strung across the top of her room, the only roof was the factory roof, far up above them.

          “Hey, it’s not like the rest of us have anything better,” he pointed out.

          “Even Lex?”

          Whitney shook his head. “He doesn’t stay here that long, he can’t really. Not without his father starting to get suspicious.”

          “Guess I hadn’t thought of that,” she said slowly. Then she frowned and looked up at him. “So what’s the bad news then?”

          “That this is going to be your room now until the day we’re driven out of here, or we’re all caught and killed,” he said quickly. “Whichever comes first.”

          Chloe stopped and stared at him. “Excuse me?”

          “You know where this base is, you’ve seen us, especially Lex, and you know that Clark is here. That’s a lot of information we can’t risk Luthorcorp getting hold of,” he explained patiently. His voice was firm, but he looked at her sympathetically. “So, for your protection and ours, we think it would best if you stayed here with us.”

          “For how long?” she snapped. “The rest of my life?”

          He shook his head and started to say something, but then he glanced at her and seemed to falter. “Maybe,” he admitted quietly. “However long it takes to make sure we’re all safe.”

          “What happens if I don’t want to wait, huh?” she rounded on him. “What happens if I don’t feel like joining up with your little revolution? If I walk out that door right now and say ‘kiss my ass’, are you going to drag me back in and chain me down? Or wait, why bother doing that when you can just shoot me and get it done with then?”

          “No, we wouldn’t do that,” he shook his head angrily. “Look, Chloe, I know this isn’t fair, but-“

          “You’re damn right it’s not fair! I’m not going to sit here and-“

          “-But this is too important to be so selfish about,” he continued over her. She flared up at the word ‘selfish’, but kept quiet as he went on. “If we let you go and you get caught, they’ll find out everything you know. You may not want to tell them, but they’ll find a way to make you.” He sighed and sat back, looking at her wearily. “This isn’t a game, Chloe. If they catch you, they’ll kill you, and it won’t be quick. Even if you’re uncle is a general,” he added.

          She stared at him, some of her anger leaving her, but she still didn’t want to accept this. “So it’s in my best interests to stay, is that it?” she asked, hating the tone in her voice but unable to help herself.

          “Yes,” he said simply and then added, “for a while at least. Until things are a little safer at least.”


          “Oh, and when would that be?” she demanded, getting up. She paced across the room and stared at the paint smeared tarp that made up one of her walls. “Until Luthorcorp is all gone? Until Lex is running things instead of his dad? Wait, hey, what am I worried about? At the rate things are going that should be happening two weeks from never!” she yelled.

          “Things aren’t going that badly,” he told her quietly. He was resting his head in his hands as he sat on the cot. Chloe gave him a withering look and continued pacing.

          “Easy for you to say,” she snarled. “You get to sit things out in your nice little house and watch the rest of us get carted away on the news.”

          “I never sat things out,” he said suddenly, his head snapping up. He glared at her for a minute, his ears red, and then he looked away. “And as for my house,” he added, “you don’t really see me getting back to it, do you?”

          Chloe looked at him, her anger fading. “You too?” she asked.

          He nodded at her shortly, but then he sighed and shrugged it away. “We probably would’ve come out here soon enough anyways,” he admitted. “We’ve been working with Pete and Lex for a while now. I guess the together we probably know more about this outfit than even Lex might. They would’ve brought us out here eventually to give us more protection.”

          “’We’?” Chloe asked. “You mean, you and Tina?”

          Whitney flinched and looked away from her. He stood up quickly, almost knocking over the cot in his haste. “If I don’t save you something there won’t be anything left,” he said hurriedly. “We don’t get a lot of food around here so we have to make it stretch. I’ll… uh… let you get ready,” he said haltingly, as he backed away from her, his hands fumbling with the curtain that served as her doorway. He finally pulled open the cloth and edged through it, keeping his eyes away from her. She stared after him as the curtain swung close wildly. Then she looked down at her rude little cot and the pile of clothes on the floor. There wasn’t even a carpet for her, just a hard concrete slab.

          Slowly, she looked around her tiny little corner, at the cold floor, the paint spackled tarp walls and the old, faded curtain doorway. Then she sighed and started to pick up the clothes and pile them on the cot. “Terrific. Just terrific. Home sweet home,” she said sadly to herself.


          After the meeting had ended, Clark had found himself a dark, lonely section of the factory and had not moved since. It looked to have been an old break room of sorts. There were old, dusty lockers on the wall, some hanging open, covered with cobwebs. A few stained wooden chairs surrounded an old table in the center of the room. None of the chairs had looked too safe, so Clark had just climbed onto the middle of the table and sat down, pulling his knees to his chest. He’d wanted some quiet place he could think, but unfortunately, thinking seemed to be the last thing he was capable of doing right now.

          His thoughts seemed to be running away with him. He’d try and sort through what Lex had told him, to get some understanding of what was happening, but then he’d be sidetracked by a memory from home; of his father, of his mother, particularly of his mother. He’d remember her voice and face, the way she always made his eggs just right, how she’d laugh at a joke of his fathers. Then he’d think that she’d probably never laughed much in the last thirteen years, not in this world at least. That sort of thing would definitely snarl his thinking.

          When he did manage to push his thoughts away from his family, all he could think about then was Lana. How had she gone from the girl he remembered to the soldier she was now? What had happened to make her change so much? At some point during the night, he had pulled out his wallet and taken out the picture Lana had given him yesterday. He stared at her smiling face and remembered the look she’d given him at the farm this morning, the hate and fury in her eyes. It seemed impossible that it was the same girl, but his heart knew different. It had been her on the farm, and before, in the sewers as well, he realized. What’s more, he had a sinking feeling he knew what had changed her so much.

          Clark had always been afraid of what would have happened if Lana had ever found out about his secret. Aside for the inherent shock of it, was the fact that his arrival had brought the meteor shower that had killed her parents. He’d lain awake nights wondering, half-dreading her reaction to the truth. What would she say, he’d ask himself. What would she think of him? Would she blame him? It was possible, he thought darkly. It was more than possible.

          No, a part of himself argued back. Lana wouldn’t think that. She couldn’t!

          But she does, that other voice answered.

          My Lana wouldn’t, he thought again. She wouldn’t.

          But if your Lana had grown up here, that same voice asked, would she be any different? Clark couldn’t think of an answer to that.

          He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there when Pete stuck his head into the room. “Still here, huh?” he asked, looking at Clark. He stepped inside, picked up a chair from the floor and set it down. He sat down in it with a quiet sigh and glanced at Clark. “Long night?”

          “Have you been keeping track of me?” Clark asked, not bothering to look up.

          “Did you think I was just going to let you wander around here on your own?” He smiled a little sympathetically. “Not that you did a lot of wandering. You looked like you needed a little time to yourself so I backed off for a while.”

          “Thanks,” he mumbled, still looking at the photo.

          “Not as easy as it sounds,” he smiled a bit wryly, “I have to admit I’m more than a little curious about you. I mean, well, no pun intended, but people like you don’t fall out of the sky everyday.” He grinned and waited. Clark looked at him blankly and then turned back to the picture.

          “Right,” Pete fumbled, “well anyways I don’t think I introduced myself last night. Pete Ross,” he stuck out his hand.

          Clark stared at it and then looked up at him. “I know who you are,” he said quietly.

          “Do you?” It was a simple question, but as Clark stared at Pete’s hand, he realized that he didn’t quite know the answer. Slowly he reached up and took it.

          “Clark Kent,” he said quietly.

          “Glad to meet you,” Pete smiled back. He let go and they looked at each other silently for a moment. The moment was strange, but not unpleasant. “Sorry the accommodations are a little lousy,” Pete remarked finally. He glanced around and kicked one of the dusty chairs. “But at least I can promise you a little better than this. We’ve got a room set aside for you. And food if you’re interested.”

          “What about Chloe? Where is she?”

          “We’ve got a room for her too. Can’t really throw her out on her ass, can we? Way Whitney tells it, she’ll helped out a bit on the farm.” He laughed. “Chloe Sullivan. She’s the last person I would have picked to wind up in this. Then again, if you’d told me three days ago that this was all going to be happening, I would’ve thought you were crazy.”

          “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.” Pete glanced at him quickly and then nodded. Clark saw the look in his eyes and explained, “Chloe. She took me to Whitney’s and he brought me here.”

          “I still have a hard time believing all of that,” he remarked. “Girl I knew wasn’t too up on helping anyone other than herself.”

          “You knew her?”

          “Reputation only; from school, what little I had of it, and from around town. Whitney probably told you about the fire, so you know what she was like,” he said.

          Clark nodded slowly, thinking back to how he had met her only two days ago; on the run with a stolen cashbox. Had it only been two days ago, he wondered. It felt like a lifetime. “She’s changed,” he said in her defense.

          “We’ll see,” Pete said. “We’ve told her she’s welcome to stay so she’ll have a chance to prove it.”

          “To stay… I thought… I mean I wanted her to go home after this,” he said. “She shouldn’t be here, it’s too dangerous.”

          “She doesn’t really have much choice in it now, Clark. You think you’re the only one Luthorcorp wants to get a hold of? Lex ID’ed Chloe less than an hour after your little stunt at the Talon.”

          “Well that was nice of him,” Clark said between his teeth.

          “It’s not like they wouldn’t have figured it out without him,” Pete pointed out bluntly. “Chloe hasn’t really lead what you might call a quiet life.”

          “So she’s stuck here because of me,” Clark said quietly, sinking back down a little.

          “If you’re looking to wallow in self-pity, sure, you can think of it like that; or you could realize that she’s stuck here because of Luthorcorp and get on with things. I tend to go with the latter.” Clark blinked and stared at him. “Personal experience,” Pete told him.

          “Speaking of getting on with things,” he remarked, “Lex and I want to have a talk with you. If you’re not too busy that is,” he added ingenuously.



          “Sorry we haven’t been able to put you up somewhere nicer,” Lex said quietly. There was stubble on his chin and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked exhausted, but he sounded in control. “Of course after the sewer and the Kent farm, this place must seem pretty luxurious by comparison.” Pete made a slight movement to cover his face, but Lex ignored it. He stared at Clark, smiling. They were in Lex’s private office, or as private as an old storage room could be in an abandoned factory. It was dark, dank, and smelled faintly of ammonia, but it at least had four walls and a real ceiling. And a door. It had swung shut heavily behind Clark, locking behind him.

          Lex was sitting at a desk, photo’s and files spread across the desk. Most seemed to be of himself, Clark noticed uneasily. Lex saw him looking and held one up. “It’s a bit blurred, taken from a helicopter, you understand,” he apologized. “From two days ago, at the Talon. We weren’t expecting you, or how strong you’d be. Took us all by surprise I think.”

          “Understatement of the year,” Pete said idly. He was leaning against the wall across from Lex. He looked at Clark calmly and then back at Lex. “Get to the point, Lex,” he said, not unkindly. “You can’t keep your father waiting forever.”

          “Your father…?” Clark asked. “You’re going back to him?”

          “I have to keep up appearances,” Lex shrugged. He blinked and then pressed his palms against his eyes. “He thinks I’m overseeing a paternity suit or meeting for a tryst or God knows what else,” he said, yawning. “He tends to think the worst of me.”

          “Can’t imagine why,” Pete smiled.

          “I’ve always tried to be a dutiful son...” Lex said with a straight face. “Living up the Luthor name is a burden.”

          “The point…” Pete reminded him again.

          “Right, right,” Lex said irritably. Then he fixed his eyes on Clark and all traces of irritation or exhaustion left him. “The point is, what are we going to do now? Or I suppose really the question is: what are you going to do now?”

          “What do you mean?” Clark asked.

          “It’s fairly self-explanatory. What do you want, Clark?” Lex asked him. “You were pulled out of your home, set down here. What do you want to do about it?”

          “What does it matter to you?” Clark asked him quietly. “I’m not one of your employees, I don’t even belong here.” He fought to keep the anger out of his voice, but it seemed to well up out of him. Lex and Pete just stared at him and didn’t respond. The silence was almost deafening.

          “I don’t know what I want,” he exploded finally. “Everything that’s going on and now my mother, am I expected to just…?” he stopped and then went on. “I don’t know what to do because all I want…” he trailed off again, but couldn’t go on. Lex and Pete just looked at him, silently.

          Clark stared back at them for a moment and then got up. He took a few steps towards the door and paused. Lex and Pete hadn’t moved to stop him. “I want to go home,” Clark told them in a small voice. “I want to forget this place ever existed. Like it was just all a bad dream.” He looked up at them. “Is that wrong?”

          “Maybe it is,” Lex finally said. “But if I were in your shoes, I’d probably be feeling the same thing,” he admitted. “Maybe it’s not so wrong. This isn’t your world; we can’t expect you to care about any of us.”

          “But I do,” Clark said sadly.

          “And it’s not so easy to get back, is it?” Pete asked.

          “That’s another thing. Sorry to say this, but this could be a one way trip,” he said frankly.”

          “Or maybe it’s not,” Pete shot Lex a warning look as he stepped in. “Who knows?”

          “Pete’s right,” Lex shrugged. “We can only assume that the Oracle, your mother, brought you here, and no one’s ever been able to say definitely what she can’t do. If she could bring you here, it’s more than possible that she could send you back.” He pursed his lips and pushed a hand through his hair, a gesture Clark found strange coming from Lex. “Of course, there’s a slight hitch in that plan.”

          “You’re dad isn’t exactly selling tickets for the trip,” Pete said.

          Lex nodded. “She’s in the most secure lab in the most heavily guarded facility in the entire world. And I know that because my father spent two billion making sure it was,” he said, leaning back with a wince. “Without my father there with you, I don’t think anyone could get in.”

          “Maybe I could,” Clark said quietly. “I could break in and find her, make her send me home.” He looked up at them and then shook his head and stared down again. “But I can’t, can I?”

          “Maybe, but I doubt it,” Lex said. He started to tick things off on his fingers. “You don’t know where the lab is, you don’t know what kind of defenses are there or how to get past them, and you don’t even know where she’s being held. So no, I don’t think your chances would be good.”

          “But you know,” Clark said.

          Lex smiled and nodded. Then he hesitated and looked at him frankly. “It’s not as simple as that though, is it?”

          “No,” Clark said slowly. “I want to go home,” he said again, “but not until I know she’s alright. And the other me. I can’t leave him there.”

          “That might not be so wise,” Lex said slowly. “You grew up with parents and a normal life, he hasn’t had that luxury. Just setting him free might not be a good idea.”

          “I can’t leave him there,” Clark said forcefully. “And better he’s with us than Luthorcorp.” Lex hesitated and then nodded.

          Pete whistled. “Both of them… Not going to be easy.”

          “And Lana,” Clark added.

          “Try impossible,” Lex snorted. He frowned and leaned forwards towards Clark. “Look, your mother and the other you, if you give them a chance, they’ll come with you I think. But Lana? She likes it there. She might not want to leave.”

          “No, Lana, she couldn’t be that way…” Clark said. “I know her, the real her, she wouldn’t…”

          “This the same girl that shot at you, and Tina?” Pete asked. Clark winced and looked at Lex imploringly.

          “Try to understand, Clark,” he said. “Lana is everything she is because that’s what my father wanted her to be. She’s a fanatic when it comes to him. You can’t just expect her to change her entire life because you’ve got a few memories of how she could have been. It might be too late for her.”

          “I know what she’s like now,” Clark told them, “but I have to try. If there’s even a chance…,” he said imploringly. “I have to try.” He looked up at Lex and waited. Lex stared back at him, frowning, and then nodded slowly.

          “If we do this carefully,” he said slowly, “and we have a lot of luck, we might be able to get all three. But, remember what I said, she might not stay here willingly.”

          Clark smiled and then hesitated, taking a step back. Lex looked at him, surprised. “There’s one other thing,” Clark told him. “If we get my mom out, she doesn’t go to work for you. Or anyone else, ever again.” Pete stood up straight, glancing at Lex in alarm. Lex blinked and looked faintly puzzled.

          “You think I want her for my own,” he said quietly. Clark didn’t answer. “If I wanted that, all I would have to do is wait to inherit my father’s company. Even before that, all I would have to do is prove myself to him, be the son he wants me to be. But you don’t see me doing that, do you?”

          “Then what do you get out of this?” Clark asked him.

          “I want to salt the earth over the Luthor name; everything he has, everything he’s ever lied for, blackmailed to get, cheated someone out of. I want to tear it all down.” Lex ran his hands over the surface of the desk, breathing deeply. “I know better than anyone that my father’s a monster. I’ve had to be a monster to get close to him.” He glared up at Clark, his blood-shot eyes gleaming. “I want that all to stop,” he said with finality.

          “I want to stop living in this dump,” Pete spoke up. He leaned back against the wall, staring at both of them. His sounded weary, but determined. “I’m tired of seeing people around me go hungry or live on the street. I’m tired of the fact that the only way you can get ahead in this town is if you sell out.” He almost spat the words out. “I want this town to be better, the way it used to be.” Clark looked at him and then nodded. So did Lex.

          “So, Lana, your ‘brother’, and Mrs. Kent in exchange for bring down my father and putting the town right again,” Lex said. “Not too much of an order, “ he said dryly.

          “Can we do it?” Clark asked him seriously.

          Lex shrugged and smiled one-sidedly. “I don’t know, but we’re sure as hell going to try.”
          Last edited by Bulbus; 09-08-2003, 07:30 PM.

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          • #6
            There you are, Bulbus!!! I had wondered if I was ever going to have the chance to read the rest of your story. Looks like I will. I haven't started on the newly posted material yet, and I should probably go back and start over again to refresh my memory. Just wanted to say thanks for putting all of that effort into your story, and for showing up here at the new boards!!!

            Comment


            • #7
              Ooh!! An update, at long last! And a great one at that. Wonderful job on it, you must continue soon!

              Comment


              • #8
                Chapter 23

                Chapter 23

                “So come’on, show me something,” Chloe heard Sarah ask. She was passing by another of the slung walls of tarps and blankets and her voice had come drifting through to the outside. “Please,” the girl was saying, “just for a bit, I have to see this.”

                “No, I really don’t want-“ Tina’s voice came unexpectedly. “How do you...”

                “Oh, that’s old news around here,” Sarah remarked. “Or, not as big as you’d think now; it’s sorta been a big day for sharing.”

                “But how?”

                “Oh, that new girl, Chloe something, was talking about it and Pete mentioned something,” Sarah breezed. Chloe winced in spite of herself. For a moment, she felt oddly guilty, but then Sarah was continuing on and Chloe moved in closer to listen.

                “Anyway,” Sarah remarked, “it’s not like I would have found out eventually, not with me digging that bullet out of you. A few surprises there. Do you know you don’t have any bones? You’re body’s like… firm jello on the inside.” She made a little sound of disgust. Chloe rolled her eyes irritably.

                “Am I going to live?” Tina asked dully.

                “Well, yeah,” Sarah remarked, sounding a little put-off. “It was big bullet, but it didn’t go too deep and I got it out. Barring you doing anything weird like melt off the table into a big puddle, you should be fine. But there’s still a few things I have to check up on.”

                “Like what?”

                “Oh, just a few routine questions,” she said innocently. Chloe heard her flip over a piece of paper and then clear her throat. “So did you and Whitney ever experiment around with this shape changing thing?”

                Chloe threw back the blankets quickly and stepped inside. “Ah jeez, this isn’t the poolhouse, is it?” she remarked, glancing around the room. “Place is so confusing.” She looked innocently at Sarah and smiled. “Oh, am I interrupting?”

                Sarah smiled back at her snidely. “Yeah, actually you were; doctor-patient privilege stuff, strictly confidential. So why don’t you turn around and go back to being lost.”

                “Doctor, huh?” she glanced at the wall behind Sarah and shrugged. “I don’t see a diploma.”

                Sarah’s grin got more fixed. “Look,” she said between her teeth, “I see scalpels. And needles. And a bone saw. Now who’s the doctor?”

                “You know it’s actually good I ran into you,” Chloe told her smoothly. “Lex was asking for you. Something about a headache, maybe a migraine; he thought you could help.”

                Sarah stared at her intently for a moment and then shrugged. “Fine,” she remarked, going to an old cabinet and pulling a drawer open. She rummaged around for a moment and came out with a plastic bottle. “You think you can handle watching Tina for a while?” Chloe nodded brightly and waved her out. She started to leave and then holding the curtain-door aside, she paused and turned around. “So how’s ET?” she asked casually. “Feeling, I mean. Sounds like he’s been through a lot.”

                “I think he prefers ‘Clark’,” Chloe said shortly. “And he’s doing just fine.”

                “You’ve talked to him?”

                “Not really,” Chloe admitted. Sarah smiled faintly at that.

                “’Clark’, huh?” she considered. “Well, anyway, tell him to stop by if he needs anything. I’d really like to take a look at him.”

                “Yeah, I’ll do that,” Chloe told her dryly. Sarah smirked and left, the curtain swing back and forth behind her. Chloe glared after her and then shook her head. “*****,” she muttered under her breath.

                “Amazing,” Tina said quietly. “It takes most people a few days to realize that. And you didn’t even have her digging a bullet out of your arm.” She was sitting up in an old hospital bed that looked like it had been salvaged from the junk pile. Tina didn’t look much better. She was very pale and the skin on her face looked stretched. Her hair hung limply against her face. A heavy bandage was wrapped around her shoulder, stained pink in the center. She smiled wanely at Chloe. “You’re all right. That’s good,” she said without conviction. “Sarah didn’t tell me how you were.”

                “Oh my God, does it hurt?” Chloe blurted out, then immediately backtracked. “What am I saying, of course it hurts. You got shot, didn’t you,” she said in a rush then. “Why do people always ask that? It’s a stupid question to ask someone. I’m stupid, geez.”

                “A little,” Tina told her. Chloe stopped and they stared at each other for a moment, then they both laughed. Tina went pale and winced, her other hand reaching up to touch her bandaged shoulder gently. Chloe stood there uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. Tina sat up, biting her lip for a moment, and then she relaxed, falling back into the bed with a pained sigh. She lay there with her eyes closed, breathing heavilyl. She asked weakly, “Lex doesn’t really have a headache, does he?”

                “What do you think?” A smile flashed briefly across Tina’s face. “Well, he’ll have one when she finds him.” She tried to sound cheerful but it was hard to keep it up watching Tina. “So, well… I guess I should say thanks… for back at the farm. That was really something.” Tina made a pained face and turned on her side, her bandaged shoulder propped up. “You’re kind of a big hero now, you know? Everyone thought so,” she tried to cheer her up.

                “They all know about me now,” Tina said quietly.

                Chloe winced and said slowly , “Sorry about that. It’s my fault,” she admitted. She faltered and looked down at her feet. She’d done a lot of questionable things in her life, but she’d never really felt bad about anything before. It wasn’t even that serious, Lex would have found out eventually, but still, it didn’t make that uncomfortable feeling of guilt go away. “Everybody was asking a lot of questions and Clark and Whitney didn’t really feel like talking.” Tina opened her eyes at Whitney’s name, but didn’t respond at once.

                “After the farm, he brought you here?” she asked hesitantly.

                “Who? Whitney? Yeah, it was his idea. You were… well, you know, out of it, and we couldn’t really bring you to a hospital. So he took us here.”

                “How… How is he?” she asked.

                “He’s fine,” she replied, a little puzzled. “He’s been in to see you, hasn’t he?” Tina looked away quickly and shook her head. “Oh my God, he hasn’t. That…,” several words came to mind, but she thought of Tina and picked the least offensive, “…jerk! You save his ass and he hasn’t even seen you yet?”

                “I don’t want to see him,” Tina said quickly, her voice almost frantic. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t.”

                “What?” Chloe asked, a little alarmed.

                “I did it for him,” she said, sounding near tears. “I did it all for him, but he wasn’t supposed to find out.”

                “About you?” Chloe asked, stepping towards her. She tried to touch her gently, but Tina flinched away from her hand. She pushed herself away from Chloe, covering her face with her arms. “Tina, what’s wrong?”

                “Do you know what it’s like to grow up like this?” Tina asked her from behind her arms. “With a secret? Always knowing you were a freak, that the face you showed everyone was a lie?”

                “Tina, I don’t…,” Chloe started, trying to comfort her. She reached across the bed and tried to pull Tina’s arms away from her face when the other girl thrust her away. Chloe stumbled back and then gasped as she saw the girl lying on the bed. It wasn’t Tina she saw, but her own face staring back at her.

                “This is all I am,” Tina said with Chloe’s own voice, “a mirror. A freak. I’m no one, just a living reflection.” She held her hand up and stared at it. Slowly, her skin started to flow and ripple around her and then she was Tina again. All Chloe could do was stand there gaping. Tina looked at her sadly and shook her head. “With Whitney I could pretend, and that’s gone now,” she moaned. “I was doing it for him; I wasn’t supposed to come back. I wasn’t supposed to come back.”

                “I knew there wasn’t going to be anything to come back to,” she cried.

                *Anyone care to guess where Lana's gone? You get three chances and the first two don't count.



                “What am I supposed to be looking at here?” Clark grunted, sitting back in his chair. Pete glanced up at him and gave him a sympathetic look.

                “I know what you mean,” he said. “My brain gave up trying to read anything an hour ago.” He pushed his hand through the papers littering the desk. “All I see now are just blue lines and blurry numbers.”

                “They’re the blue prints and security read outs to the lab,” Lex told them evenly. While Clark and Pete had been bent over the table for the last few hours, he had pushed his chair further back and was sitting away from them with his computer resting on his lap. He varied between typing idly at it and staring motionlessly at the ceiling. “They’re as up to date as I could get, so it’d be a good idea to familiarize yourself with them. Of course we still don’t have anything on Lab 2, where they’re keeping you mother, Clark. I couldn’t even find the original blue-prints for it.”

                “At least you know where it is,” Clark said. “All you need to do is get me there, I’ll do the rest.”

                “Optimism is a wonderful thing, but I’d prefer to know what I was charging into first.” Lex rubbed the back of his neck and pursed his lips. “Still,” he allowed, “whatever defenses my father has in there, I don’t think he’d have planned on someone with your abilities breaking in.”

                “That’s something,” Pete remarked.

                “Of course, he has the rest of the base for that,” Lex went on. “Magnetized shutters, high speed motion detectors, nerve gas, guards armed with the meteor powered lasers…” He smiled and shook his head.

                Pete raised his eyebrows and stared at him. “Sounds fun,” he said finally. “Glad I’ll be there.”

                “No, actually you won’t,” Lex told him.

                “Thank God!” Pete burst out, relieved. Then he blinked and asked, “Wait, why not!?”

                “Too many people would recognize you and I need you to do something else for me.” Lex moved his chair back to the table and put his laptop down on it. “I need you to organize a distraction outside the city, something loud enough to draw most of the attention away from the base for a night.”

                “Done and done,” he said with a smirk. “I can usually find something of your dad’s worth burning. That’s not going to get everyone out of the labs though. You’re dad didn’t even evacuate when that tornado plowed through last year.”

                “The less we have to fight the better,” Lex told him.

                “Yeah, but it still leaves a hell of a lot left. Any bright ideas about getting them out?”

                Lex smiled broadly at them. “Who said anything about getting them out? I’m going to lock them in.”

                “How are you going to manage that?” Clark asked.

                “You forget you’re talking to the executive vice-president of Luthorcorp, and as such, I have clearance for almost all of the electric locks in the building. I can rearrange the guards’ roster so almost everyone’s in their barracks and then seal them up inside.”

                “Leaving us a clear path inside,” Pete finished.

                “Not quite clear,” Lex amended. “If I draw everyone off it’ll look suspicious, I’ll have to leave a few at least. Not enough to worry about though.”

                “I’ll take care of that,” Clark said. “I’ve gotten pretty good at dealing with your father’s soldiers.”

                “No, you’ll be somewhere else when we come in,” Lex told him. “Getting you in the front door wouldn’t help us, you’ll have to be-“

                The door swung open at the end of the room and Chloe walked in hurriedly. She was holding a length of pipe underneath her arm. They all stood up in surprise, but she hardly stopped to notice them. She glanced around the room, her eyes resting briefly on Clark, and then moving away. “Anyone seen Whitney?” she asked.

                “Not recently,” Lex answered, frowning slightly as he stared at the pipe. “What were planning on doing with that?”

                “This?” she asked, holding it up. It looked blunt and very heavy. “I was thinking of just beating him senseless with it. Anyone have any problems with that?”

                Clark blinked in surprise and took a step forwards. “Chloe, what’s going on?”

                She turned on him and looked at him in mock surprise. “Gee sorry, Clark, didn’t notice you there. So this is where you’ve been hiding out lately. Thanks for checking up on me by the way, I’m fine.”

                “I meant to,” he started guiltily, “it’s just things have been a little crazy. We’ve been trying to get a plan together-“

                “Yeah, save it. If Whitney wasn’t numero uno on my hit list I’d be denting this thing on your skull right about now.” She started to leave and then turned around, glaring at Lex and Pete. “Oh and guys, great little clubhouse you’ve got here. Thanks a bunch for giving me the lifelong membership.”

                “Is that why you’re about to give Whitney a concussion?” Lex asked idly. “Haven’t you ever heard of the phrase, ‘don’t shoot the messenger,’?”

                “Or beat him senseless with a lead pipe?” Pete added.

                “No, it was sort of a scorned woman thing. Well, I’m not the scorned woman or anything; I’m just passing it on for a friend. She’d do it herself if she wasn’t shot,” she emphasized. “Oh, she’s fine to by the way. If you guys are done with your little circle-jerk in here you might want to think about seeing her.”

                Clark flushed a little and looked away. Lex didn’t seem to notice, he was frowning quietly. “I didn’t consider that,” he remarked to himself.

                “Yeah, I’d kind of figured that since no one’s been in to see her yet,” Chloe said acidly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve something to take care of.”

                “If you can hold off on that for a minute,” Lex said quickly, “I’ve got a job for you.”

                “Oh it won’t take a minute,” she said. “I’m pretty sure if I can get a few good swings in I can take him.”

                “Well before we have to find out, I’d like you to stay with Tina for a while,” he said smoothly. “Pete will handle talking to Whitney.”

                Pete looked up and nodded. “Yeah, I might even be able to do it without cracking his head open.”

                “What’s the use of that, then?” Chloe asked petulantly.

                “Chloe,” Lex said quietly.

                Finally she rolled her eyes and nodded. “Fine, but if I’m the only one in there today, Whitney’s not the only one who’s going to be seeing double for a while.” She tossed the pipe away with a clatter and stormed off, shaking her head. Pete started after her, when Lex called him back.

                “I think I’ll have to handle Whitney,” he told him, getting up. “You and Clark have something else to take care of.”

                “We do?” Pete asked. “When did this happen?”

                “When I caught a company-wide message posted by my father a little while ago.” Lex glanced at Clark. “It seems you had more of an effect on Lana than anyone thought. She’s gone missing.”

                “Missing?” Clark said, surprised. “You mean she just ran off?”

                “That’s the scientific explanation for it, yes,” Lex smiled. “My father’s got everyone he can spare looking for her. It’ll be risky, but if you can find her before they do, it would save us a lot of effort.”

                “Not much though, she’s not going to come quietly,” Pete said frankly.

                “No, I think I can do it,” Clark told them. He saw their disbelieving looks and nodded more forcefully. “I know I can.”

                Pete glanced at Lex and he nodded slightly in response. Reluctantly Pete shrugged and then squared his shoulders. “All right then, any ideas where we might find her?”

                “She’s lived in the lab since she’s been five years old,” Lex raised his hands helplessly, “I don’t even know if she has anything left to go back to. Plus, if Clark had as much an affect on her as I’m guessing, she’d be confused and frightened. Who knows where she’d go to?”

                “I might have an idea,” Clark said slowly.

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                • #9
                  Lana went to the Talon, final answer Regis... err... I mean Bulbus.

                  Comment


                  • #10
                    wow! I have to print out this one to catch up! It looks great!

                    Comment


                    • #11
                      Unless you've got about 350 pages to spare, I wouldn't suggest it. It's kinda long. But thanks anyways

                      Comment


                      • #12
                        I'm only on chapter 18, but its great so far

                        Comment


                        • #13
                          He he!
                          I print everything at uni and it's free of charge!
                          I will print it in turns! you know three parts a day! lol

                          Comment


                          • #14
                            * shame on everyone who didn't automatically think "parents' grave" when I said, "lana in distress/happy/sad/constipated..."


                            Chapter 24

                            “I hope you’re right about this,” Pete said in a tight voice, “’cause I’d hate to think we dodged three patrols and a helicopter for nothing.” He crouched low in the bushes outside the cemetery, seeming to blend in with the shadows effortlessly. Clark was crouched beside him, feeling conspicuous and out in the open. Pete had led them unerringly across half the town, knowing the usual patrol routes and avoiding them easily. With Clark’s senses, they’d also been able to dodge a few unexpected surprises along the way.

                            “That makes two of us,” Clark muttered.

                            “So your Lana’s always been hung up about her parents? And our one loves hunting us down and doing Lionel’s dirty work.” Pete smiled grimly. “Why’d we get the good one, huh?” Clark didn’t say anything, just stared ahead. Pete glanced at him and then looked out again, shrugging. “You sure she’s going to come here?”

                            “If she’s upset, or confused, she’ll come here. The Lana I know would,” Clark told him softly.

                            “Would the Lana you know hold a gun to your head?” Pete asked him frankly.

                            “I hope not.”

                            “Good,” Pete told him, his voice hardly carrying the few feet between them, “because I think I just saw her. There,” he pointed, “looks like she was behind some crypts.” Clark followed his finger and nodded as he saw her. She was standing still, holding onto the wall of a crypt. It was too far to see her face, but somehow he knew it was her. He started to get up when Pete grabbed his hand.

                            “Wait, do you have any idea what you’re going to do? Are you just going to grab her or…”

                            “I’m going to talk to her,” he hissed quietly. “Someone has to.”

                            “Yeah, ‘cause that worked so well before, right? Look, she might be alone now, but if you just walk up to her, she’ll call everyone in a ten mile radius down on us. Just hit her before she knows what’s happening. You can have your heart to heart later.” Clark stared at him for a moment and then pulled out of his grasp roughly. “Dammit, wait!” Pete hissed, but Clark ignored him and kept going.



                            Lana stared at her parents’ graves silently, unable to think of a thing to say to them. It helped, she’d found, to think of them as still here, that they could hear her when she talked to them. When she’d been younger, she’d come here as often as Lionel would allow her; to tell them of what was happening, what she was doing with herself. It had been bittersweet comfort, setting her mind at ease but always leaving her with a cold, hollow feeling inside.

                            She shivered as the night wind blew through the cemetery, making her rub her arms lightly. Parting her lips, she started slowly. “Hello. I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing back here. I know I haven’t been in a while.” How long had it been since she’d visited them, she wondered. A year, years? Things had been confusing lately, time seemed to pass by so quickly for her, and sometimes she wondered why she felt she had nothing to show for it. “I guess it’s been a lot longer than I thought.”

                            “You like the uniform,” she tried to smile, but her face betrayed her. Commander of the LuthorCorps, how about that?” she asked, her voice cracking. “I worked so hard for it. I told you, right? I think I told you.” Something started to pound in her head and she touched her temples lightly. “No, I told… Dr. Crane about it, and you… He said something about both of you… and Mr. Luthor…,” she stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. The pain spiked as she groped for the thought, but she wouldn’t let it go. She reached for it and suddenly it was there. “Duty! Duty,” she breathed out. “It was about duty.”

                            “I owe everything to you,” she whispered. “You loved me, and then you weren’t there anymore. He took you away.” She sniffed and looked away, closing her eyes. “I wanted to go with you so badly.” The wind whistled by her again, but this time she didn’t shiver, she was reliving the past, fourteen years ago.

                            I was all alone, she thought, and then he was there, Lionel, Mr. Luthor. A man as big and as powerful as her father had always seemed to her. He’d brought her out of the darkness, given the entire world back to her. But of course, he couldn’t give her back everything. No, it was too late for that.

                            He’d come to her again one day, right at this spot, crying at her parents grave. She’d still been young, small enough for him to lift her up and brush the tears from her face. He’d told her how sorry he was for her parents, but that he might have a way for her to make it better. How, she’d asked. He’d laughed then and kissed her on the cheek. Then he’d asked, what do you remember about that day?

                            Even now, deep in her thoughts, she shuddered as she remembered. There had been fire and smoke, the entire sky screaming like it was being torn apart. And in the midst of all that, between the moans and screams, she remembered seeing someone: a boy, standing by a ruined hunk of metal, staring at her. The expression on his face, she could almost see it now, in her thoughts, but then it was carried away. It had seemed important then, but she couldn’t understand why.

                            Do you know who he was, Lionel had asked her. Or I should ask, what he was? She’d shaken her head, mystified. He had smiled at her then, not at all like the way her father had smiled at her, and had said, then I’ll have to show you.

                            They’d driven in a limo then, her first ride in a limo, though she didn’t enjoy it much. She felt trapped, caged inside of it. Every time she’d looked at Lionel worriedly, he’d had that same smile for her. He’d pat her leg and say something reassuring, but there had been a look in his eyes that had frightened her. She hadn’t known what it was called then, but now she could put a name to it.

                            Possession, she thought. He looked at me like I was already his property. The same look had been in his eyes when he called me into his office a few days ago. Has he thought of me that way since the very beginning?

                            She hadn’t looked up until they’d gotten to the lab and even then, all she could look at was Lionel’s face. He’d seemed excited and eager for her and so she’d tried to be too, but she couldn’t match him. Her stomach had felt like a lump of ice, freezing the half-smile on her face. Lionel had pulled her along after him, into the labs and through the heavy doors into that room.

                            It was big and dark and empty. The only light came from a window growing up out of the floor at the end of the room. Unable to stop herself, she’d walked forward and had seen that the window looked down into another room, this one much smaller with pristine white walls that were so brightly lit they were almost blinding. She’d squinted briefly and then stared as she saw down into the room. There had been a boy in that room, clad in a dirty pair of white pants and shirt and sitting on a tattered green blanket. He had been playing idly with a simple rag doll, holding it in his hands and turning it around and around. He almost looked to have been studying it. Then casually, he had pulled the head off the doll and tossed it away. She had watched him stare at the bit of stuffing hanging off the neck of the doll and then he had tossed the rest of it away as well.

                            Do you recognize him, Lionel had asked her, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She’d shaken her head mutely. Look closer, he had told her, smiling. Almost against her will, she had turned back and looked down again. The boy had noticed them standing there by now. As she had looked down, their eyes had met and she had seen something in them, but it had been all too much for her to understand then. It was too much even now, she thought. But whatever she might have seen, it had all been driven from her when Lionel had bent down and whispered into her ear.

                            He’s the same boy you saw the day your parents were killed. What’s more, he’s the reason they’re dead in the first place. He caused the shower to happen, it’s his fault that your parents are dead. Her soul had seemed to fracture as she’d heard it. All she had been able to do was to stare down into his cell, staring at the remains of that doll the boy had so casually ripped to pieces.

                            He’s dangerous, powerful, Lionel had whispered to her. Given half a chance, he’d kill more people, many more. We have to keep him here, we have to make sure he can never get out. I have the best people for that, but they might not understand everything about him. They might not know how important it is that he stays here, they might even feel sorry for him, and forget about what he’s done. I need someone who I can trust Lana. Someone who knows just what’s at stake. Do you understand?

                            “Yes,” she whispered now, just as she had then.

                            Do you want him to get out? Do you want more him to kill more parents? Just like he did yours?

                            “No,” she whispered.

                            That’s a good girl, he had whispered. She had opened her eyes and looked down at the boy again. He was still staring up at her dispassionately. That’s a good girl.

                            “Lana.”

                            So caught up in her thoughts, she heard her name come from the boy. He was staring up at her and she heard him speak again. “Lana.” Now he wasn’t looking at her coldly anymore, but with those same strange, deep eyes of the other one, the alien at the farm. Something about those eyes had shaken her, made her leave LuthorCorp to come here, upsetting everything she’d come to accept about her life. None of her training could show her how to deal with the way those eyes made her feel. She’d been taught about fear and hate, and yes, she’d felt both when he had looked at her, but it was also something more, something she couldn’t understand or face. Those eyes made her want to run, to run desperately away before something terrible happened.

                            Then to her horror, the boy started to cry from one eye, but blood, not tears. It was running down his face and dribbling onto the floor, pooling around the torn doll lying forgotten on the floor. At first, she’d thought it was formless, but now she could see it was a girl, a rag doll version of a fairy princess in fact. As she watched the blood stained the doll’s pink dress a deeper red.

                            “Lana?” the boy said again, and this time she nearly screamed in surprise, falling to her knees. She was crying so hard the world was a blur in front of her. Someone was on their knees in front of her, holding her upright. She gasped for air, disoriented, and blinked her eyes clear.

                            “Easy, easy,” someone was saying as she slowly came back to herself. She was still in the cemetery, she could see her parents’ graves to her left. She sighed and looked up at whoever had kept her from falling, and froze as she saw who it was.

                            “Easy,” the alien said again to her. He was staring back at her worriedly, still holding onto her shoulder. “Just take it easy, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quickly.

                            “NO!” she cried, her hand going to her gun before she could finish the word, but then the alien’s hand was there, pining hers to her side. His grip was strong, but not painful, still she almost screamed as he held her.

                            “I’m not going to hurt you,” he tried to say again, but she kept struggling. Before he could stop her, she pulled her other arm away and smashed him in the neck, right in the Adam’s apple. He gasped, probably more from shock then from pain, but his grip didn’t slip. She swung at him again, striking him in the face this time. “Stop it,” he yelled and caught her arm as she pulled it back again. Her fingers were already starting to swell up and some were bleeding as he held her hand.

                            “Let go of me,” she hissed at him. “Let me go!”

                            “Please, I just need to talk to you,” he tried to say, but she cried out and thrashed against him.

                            “Let me go, let me go!” she yelled as loudly as she could.

                            “Lana, I just want to…” She thrashed her body away from him trying to break free one last time, but then something came from behind and struck her and she fell forwards into darkness.

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                            • #15
                              I was actualy about to add her parents grave to my post before you posted this part, haha.

                              Anyway, great stuff, keep it up.

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